Memories and Dreams
by PenrithPenPal
Summary: In the aftermath of losing the brother he never knew, Diego struggles to heal. Physical and mental injuries drain and demotivate the young man. Will Zorro survive the process of Diego's grief, and who is the newcomer in the pueblo?
1. Chapter 1

A woman wrapped her shawl tighter around herself with her free hand, as she crossed the plaza holding the hand of a small boy while his big brother walked alongside. The wind was picking up the remaining leaves and tossing them in the air, driving them and the breeze from the snow-covered mountains through the pueblo. Don Diego de la Vega smiled and waved at the tiny family, and the boys waved back. The mother smiled at the handsome caballero.

The school was coming along well with the new school teacher. He was an older man, who seemed tough and crusty but the children loved him. Diego was sure a stick was threatened but not needed most of the time. He didn't hear of many canings anyway and he talked to several children regularly.

He wondered again what it would have been like to have a brother to share his life with, and how it would have been different. One of the drawbacks of his encounter with his lost twin. Gilberto would have shared every moment of his whole life if he hadn't been stolen. A sense of a great loss hung at the back of his mind lately, and it was worse than never knowing about his brother.

"What are you thinking about, Diego?"

He turned his head to acknowledge his father. "Just thinking."

"You're thinking about Gilberto again, aren't you?" Alejandro said softly. Diego stiffened and glanced down. "You are my son, and Gilberto was part of both of us."

"I know, it just seems so unfair sometimes."

"Yes it does," Alejandro admitted. He was silent for a few minutes, and they both scanned their surroundings.

"Winter is coming," Diego said softly.

"Definitely a chill in the air."

Dismounting at the tavern, father and son went their separate ways, Diego to his newspaper office, and Alejandro to his usual place in the tavern. Diego had promised to meet his father for an early lunch, after a decent morning's work at the newspaper.

"Buenos Dias, Don Alejandro," Victoria said, as she smiled at him. She was serving people across the room but was expecting him to arrive at roughly the usual time.

"Diego isn't with you?"

"Busy at the paper, Victoria." Alejandro stared at her for a moment. "Were you waiting for him?"

Alejandro raised an eyebrow as the tavern keeper flushed, and almost dropped her serving tray. Meals and drinks threatened to fall as she visibly startled at the suggestion.

"No, not really," she said. She placed the last of the meals down on the customer's table, and moved to behind her counter, shelving the tray quickly.

Alejandro watched and waited until she regained her composure. What with the strange things that had been happening around the pueblo lately, anything at all was possible. He had found and lost a son within half an hour, watched his other son fight like a trained soldier, why wouldn't Victoria have feelings for his son? The unexpected was a normal occurrence these days.

She smoothed down her skirt and brushed a stray curl from her forehead. She was calm and collected within moments, the smile and the intelligent eyes shining. Alejandro wondered if his son had feelings for her as well. He didn't know...he had never been told anything about Diego's romantic plans, except that he would not marry a woman he did not love.

The alcalde entered the tavern, heading towards the fireplace. He rubbed his gloved hands vigorously. He had obviously been busy and was taking a break from whatever he had been doing. The sergeant was close behind as usual and quickly joined a friend.

"How has your day been, Alcalde?"

"Complicated." He sounded tired. "My men are very undisciplined, and I can only blame myself for their weaknesses. They stumble around like raw recruits, Don Alejandro."

"You will persist and they will be the finest in Alta California."

"You have a great deal of confidence in me, Senor. I hope you have not misplaced it."

"With Zorro not having been seen for over two months, we need someone to defend the pueblo."

"Perhaps Risendo did manage to kill him after all. I mean that man…." The alcalde stopped and eyed Alejandro carefully. "Excuse me, Don Alejandro, I did not mean to mention your son."

"Risendo was a brilliant man, poisoned from birth by a cruel woman. If anyone could have hunted down Zorro and destroyed him it probably would have been Gilberto."

"Well, yes. Exactly. Poisoned."

"I will tell you again that I don't hold you responsible for his death. If you hadn't acted, Diego would have died. I know that for certain, Alcalde."

Ignacio nodded in silence and stared into the flames in the fireplace for a few moments. "Senorita Escalante, a hot coffee if you please."

"Of course Alcalde."

"You can sit with me if you wish, Ignacio."

"Thank you, Senor. I will, although my work drives me today," Ignacio said, sitting opposite the caballero.

"Taxes?"

Ignacio stared at Alejandro briefly. "Not yet. The funds in the treasury are adequate for the time being. Taxes are not due for some time."

Alejandro nodded.

"The road takes most of my time. We are making good progress. It will be the finest road in the colonies. Thanks to the help Diego and his friends have freely given me. I never realised he was friends with one of the greatest civil engineers in Spain."

"Diego is full of surprises. He met a lot of people while he studied in Madrid."

"I can't remember much about him, he was so much younger than me. He was always very popular, always had a crowd around him."

"He likes to keep more to himself these days. His interests absorb his time," Alejandro said.

"The newspaper?"

"Yes," Alejandro said. "Of course I have no real idea how such things are done, but he seems to spend most of his waking hours in that shack. His injuries were more serious than I first realised. Gilberto managed to get in a few good lunges."

"Of course. A scholar's mind is hardly prepared for combat. It must have been a great shock to his constitution."

"Indeed," Alejandro said.

Ignacio drained his coffee cup and placed it down on the table top with a slight bang. He stood, nodded to Alejandro and Victoria and left the tavern. His strides conveyed the haste of his business, as he made his way to his horse. Sergeant Mendoza hurriedly left the tavern, abandoning his friend hastily and the half-eaten stack of tamales.

"Don't trust that man too readily, Alejandro. A leopard does not change his spots and a pig doesn't wander too far from the mud." Alejandro's old friend, Don Eduardo had spoken from his nearby table, and Alejandro turned to him. The other man was frowning in thought and concern.

"He did save Diego."

"That he did. But in doing so he saved himself, Alejandro. You do see that?"

"Eduardo, I'd rather think better of the man. Perhaps he has changed? Thinking the worst of him is hardly fair."

"Do you really think so?" Victoria said as she swept by to collect the coffee cup and other discarded dishes. "I cannot really trust him."

"Well, I expect the worst and hope for the best," Alejandro's friend said, slapping him gently on the shoulder. "That's the wisest course of action."

"Yes, you are right of course." Alejandro shifted uncomfortably. The alcalde could not really have changed over so short a time. A change had come over the alcalde but if it was permanent, it was much too early to say. Eduardo paused for a moment, and then changed the subject.

"Alejandro, do you know the man who left the tavern as you walked in?"

"My mind was on other things. Is there a stranger in town?"

"He's been coming to the tavern for a couple of months, but never talks to anyone. He dresses well, and rides a fine horse but hasn't bothered to introduce himself. I think he arrived just when you and Diego were recovering from your injuries."

"That explains why I haven't met him yet. We have only just started socialising again."

"Well, he's a rude man, and there is no need to meet him. Too proud and haughty if you ask me. Jose says he has a hacienda near the river."

"Very well then, Eduardo. An interesting new addition to our fair pueblo."

"Very unlikely, but he comes and goes regularly I believe," Eduardo added.

"Sit down and talk to me of the man."

"No, I can't. My Felicia has lost a shoe this morning, I'd better see the blacksmith before the wind really picks up out there."

Alejandro waved as Eduardo left the tavern, turning his coat collar to the wind.

It hadn't snowed in Los Angeles for about seven years, but the chill was picking up. It hadn't rained for over half a year, not really. If it wasn't for the river it would be a desert. Alejandro could tell that the mountains had received snow and the river would surge. He hoped the bridge would hold out this year, though he doubted it.

Victoria paused by Alejandro's side. "I know who the man is. He is the new school teacher. He is working wonders with Marie's sons. I can't recall his name. He comes into the tavern before school starts."

"Well, a scholar in the schoolyard. That is a promising turn of events." Alejandro smiled and thought that it might interest Diego to know another educated man was now working in town. It might help him get out of the doldrums he had fallen into. He hadn't been quite himself for some time.

ZZZZ

Diego entered the tavern for a late lunch, instead of the early one he had promised his father. His dark hair was mussed, ink-stained his fingers and somehow the side of his nose, and he was in shirt sleeves. He slid into his usual seat with a sigh.

"I'll get you a large coffee," Victoria said, as she saw him. "And a cloth to wipe you down with. How on earth do you get yourself so dirty?"

"Nice to see you too, Victoria," Diego mumbled under his breath but Alejandro overheard.

"She isn't criticising you, Diego. She is mothering you."

"Well, I wish she would stop." Diego had spoken a little too loud, and the people around them stared as a hush fell over the room. He shivered, and his father sighed.

"Where is your jacket, Diego? Aren't you freezing?" Alejandro took his own jacket off and draped it around his son's shoulders. The jacket was far too big for the younger man, as he had a different build. It floated on his shoulders and was far too short in the length.

"You'll get cold, father."

"I have been sitting in a warm tavern for most of the morning, and you have been working up a sweat in that newspaper office. You'll make yourself sick," Alejandro said, pushing the offered jacket back around his son. "Felipe, go and fetch the jacket."

Felipe glanced at Diego and shook his head at Diego's absent-mindedness as he left the tavern.

Alejandro tried to ignore Diego's shivers as much as his son tried to hide them. There was an uncomfortable silence, and the general conversation picked up again. Victoria approached with a bowl of obviously hot water and a soft cloth.

"Can I clean your nose for you? Please? It will be easier than getting a mirror from upstairs." She was much less forceful now, and her voice was warm and comforting.

Diego relaxed and managed a tired smile. "Just my nose, Victoria. I can manage the rest of the ink. It's mainly on my fingers."

Victoria gave him a nervous smile and gently washed the ink away from his nose. He closed his eyes to make sure drips didn't get in his eyes. He sat obediently until she was sure it was all gone, and then washed his fingers carefully after she left about her duties.

"Diego," Alejandro said softly. "What is going on?"

Diego glanced at his father with concerned surprise. "What do you mean, Father?"

"There is something going on between you and Victoria."

"Me and Victoria? Don't be silly, Father. I am hardly Zorro."

"Yes, no… I don't know. You have always been friends, ever since you were children."

"She is a lot younger than me."

"Most marriages have age gaps."

"She is in love with Zorro. And he with her, obviously."

"And what of you?"

"I don't come into it, Father."

Alejandro was speechless for a moment, staring at his downcast son. Was that it? Was Diego lovelorn? Pining over a woman he couldn't have? If Zorro was alive...but if he was dead? The path might be clear for a courtship once Victoria had accepted that her hero was never coming back. A marriage of convenience could even be arranged. There might be grandchildren in his future after all.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then we won't, Diego. Tell me about your newspaper, and drink your coffee. Look, here is Felipe with your jacket and you can hand me mine again." Alejandro shelved his racing thoughts and half thought out plans and concentrated on the son he had almost lost only weeks ago.


	2. Chapter 2

The night was cold, and fires were lit in the de la Vega hacienda. The wind had been howling, whistling at the windows. Diego reminded himself that he should make himself patrol the pueblo as Zorro, but he hadn't felt strong enough for two months. Riding still tired him and there was no real rush. Zorro's absence had not really impacted the region yet. Word of mouth and gossip had been taking longer than usual.

People were reluctant to believe that Zorro was dead. Holding on to hope, no one spoke out everyone's secret fears. If he couldn't regain his strength and his focus there would be no more Zorro. He longed to visit Victoria as the man she loved and he hungered for her kisses, her warm arms around him. The relationship was deepening a little too much, he realised. The time would come where he would have to tell her the truth or abandon her altogether. The thought of giving up altogether hurt his heart, and he could not sleep.

A strange noise pricked a sense of alarm, but Diego dismissed it just as fast. The wind was tossing so many things around that any noise could be rationally explained. Nevertheless, he couldn't sleep. A tour of the house would not hurt, and he could fetch a book from the de la Vega bookshelves. He would need to purchase some new reading material soon as his reading had become an obsession in the last few weeks.

He didn't need a candle, so grabbed his robe and tucked his feet into warm slippers. He knew the house like everywhere else, like the back of his hand. Mastering the layout of the completely dark hacienda had been easy and he had not stumbled against a piece of furniture for years. He knew how many steps to and from certain locations, and what wooden panel squeaked under his weight, and it was simple to adjust accordingly.

The chance of an intruder lay at the back of his head, but not dwelt upon. The hacienda had seldom been burgled and the few times that it had he had sorted it out before his father was disturbed. All except that one time, that time he had left his father alone in the house. He still felt guilty about that night. Alejandro had been hurt, and treasures had been stolen. If he had been home, his father would have been safe.

Another sound was muffled but it was definitely the sound of glass shattering. That attracted the young man's interest, and he regretted that he had left his candlestick on his bedside table. He could manage hand to hand combat, but robbers tended to be armed. Maybe it was the wind, still causing the problems that it had all day, but now he doubted it. There was a sword on the wall of the library, but it was mainly decorative - not solid like a sabre. Still, it was a sword.

Diego could hear muffled talking, as at least two men went through the house. He didn't know what they were looking for, but nothing would leave the hacienda if he could help it. They wouldn't know what hit them as he came out of the darkness, he thought as his heartbeat raced with determination and concealed excitement. His training had been light since the Gilberto incident, but what were burglars compared to the legendary Zorro?

He thought later that he had been rash, that his own arrogance had led him to make a grave mistake. Pride goes before a fall, so they say. He had assumed their number instead of knowing the field, guessed instead of waiting and weighing the facts. He thought there was only two men, and confronted them directly.

They cowered as expected, retreating before the shadowy shape he resembled in the dark. As they glanced at something behind him, he froze. He had underestimated his prey, something he tried never to do. Something smashed heavily into the back of his head, sending him crashing to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Alejandro was shaking him awake, and Diego blinked and tried to focus on his father's worried face.

"Thank goodness, Diego. I thought you were dead when I first saw you lying there."

Diego sat up groggily, and the room swam. There were several images of his father, shifting as if they were all on a ship on the waves, and details were still fuzzy. A scarlet splash of red that could only be blood coated his father's nightshirt, and Diego's awareness rushed back.

"You're bleeding, Father," Diego said, grabbing at his father's arm to try to focus better. His father was hurt, and once again it was his fault. What kind of son was he?

"No," Alejandro said softly, looking down at his nightclothes. "That's your blood, Diego. Not mine."

Diego leant against the wall, as he insisted on standing up. Pushing aside support he was determined to move into a chair, and with great difficulty, he managed it without help. He closed his eyes against the headache building behind his eyes, and nausea that rose. Definite concussion, he decided. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep, but he wondered if that was wise at the present time.

"You need to be in bed," Alejandro was saying, as if far away.

Diego sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "I don't think I can manage to get there just yet. I need a few minutes."

"I wasn't suggesting you walk unaided," Alejandro said with an edge to his voice.

"Can we talk? Like we used to?" Diego said softly. "Like before I went to University?"

"It wasn't me who decided to stop talking," Alejandro said. Diego sighed and thought that his father was very possibly correct in his statement. Just who had started avoiding who, Diego could not remember, especially now when pieces of memory shifted and faded and reappeared in his mind. He wondered briefly if his skull had been fractured by the blow, and tried to think of something else. He couldn't be that unlucky.

"Place your arm around my shoulders, it's going to be awkward but together we will manage."

Diego reluctantly did as he was told, and bit his lip to prevent a groan escaping. His head hurt and blackness hovered at the edge of his consciousness. He focused on his father and the task ahead of them and managed to keep from passing out.

He felt embarrassed and ashamed to genuinely need his father's help, and that Alejandro was worried but not surprised. As if it was to be expected that Diego would easily be bested by a couple of low key burglars. It was his own fault.

By the time that they made it to Diego's bed, they were both exhausted. Alejandro insisted on Diego being under the covers and lying down, and Diego obeyed. The doctor had already been sent for, and he arrived within an hour. Diego and Alejandro waited in silence, stunned by the thought of what could have happened.

"Diego, that is a serious wound you have there. That blow could have killed you."

"I was trying to stop the bandits."

"We all know you mean well Diego, but you are no Zorro. What were you thinking?" Alejandro said. "They could have killed you. What would we do without you?"

"It's just a concussion," Diego mumbled.

"There is nothing insignificant about a concussion, Diego. I am sure you already know," Doctor Hernandez said sternly.

"You remember everything, don't you? No amnesia? No sleeping - he could end up in a coma, is that right, Hernandez?" Alejandro was pacing the room near the foot of the bed.

"Father," Diego began, already rising to irritation.

"Alejandro, I think I need to examine him alone," Herandez said gently. "The less strain on him the better."

Alejandro nodded, and with a brief glance at Diego, he left the room.

"Well, young man?"

"What?"

"Were you racing around as Zorro? Or were you just bumbling around in the dark?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"I guessed who Zorro was after treating you after that fight with your brother. That shoulder wound on your right shoulder - that was several days old and it was caused by a lancer's gun, not a madman's sword. Besides, there are more scars on your torso than most people would get from reading books all day."

"My time at university was rough," Diego said. "Fencing lessons."

"Of course." The doctor decided it was wise to forget the issue for the moment.

"How bad is my head?"

"You aren't bleeding from anywhere else except your head - people tend to bleed from the nose or other areas of the face if there are serious complications. Is your vision slightly off? Your eyes seem a little too unfocused for my liking. I would not trust your balance for a couple of weeks."

"Are you serious? I have ranch chores to do, and...and other matters to attend to. I can't be bedridden for weeks."

"No riding for two weeks and I would recommend six weeks to be sure. Fencing of any kind is ill-advised."

"Any kind?" The doctor wasn't just talking about fixing the property's fenceline.

The doctor ignored him. "I can talk with your father and insist on complete bedrest for you. He won't argue with me."

No, Diego thought grimly. He would agree with the rest of the pueblo that his son was a well-meaning weakling with no practical skills whatsoever. He wanted his father to be proud of him. Gilberto was the ideal son for Alejandro, well, apart from the insane side of him. Gilberto was a magnificent swordsman, tactician and commander - taking after their father. What was the weakling scholar compared to that? The fact that Zorro was the same level of swordmaster never occurred to him at the moment. He couldn't forget the hurt pride and his own embarrassment with his failure.

Diego sighed, unwilling to listen or argue or whatever. He just wanted sleep. He wanted to forget he ever knew he had a brother, and that the perfect son had died and he had been left. Maybe it was the concussion clouding his thoughts but he wasn't sure whether the right son had died. Maybe Gilberto could have changed….? Maybe everything Diego did was doomed to fail from now on. Maybe being Zorro was something he had to stop before he killed himself, and doomed his father completely? Maybe there was no way to stop what he had started?

"I think you can sleep now. I'll get your father to wake you every couple of hours, just to be safe." The doctor had been talking for a while without much response, and Diego's opposition had faded. That worried the doctor far more than the examination had.

Diego smiled and nodded, closing his eyes. He was asleep within moments, his worried expression fading into peaceful repose.

No, Hernandez thought, no bedrest. Light exercise starting from tomorrow. To deny any de la Vega freedom was to invite rebellion. He had learnt that over the years, even as Diego had been a young child. It was best to give the appearance of freedom, and then they had nothing to argue about. Everyone was better off that way. A flicker of a doubt crossed his mind, and he hoped he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

The bandits rested in a cave in the hills, watching the snow fall. The fire roared keeping them warm, and drying out damp clothes. They had hurried through the snow as it fell around them.

"I wish we could have stolen some of the horses," one said, as he lay back against a rock. He daydreamed about the rumoured steeds of the de la Vegas.

"Do you think we killed that man?" A small voice said nervously.

"Quit being a nuisance, Clara."

"Besides we didn't kill him. Charles did," an older girl said.

"I'm sure he's fine," Charles said firmly.

"What is this?" Another man said in the shadows. He burst into a coughing fit, that made Clara rush to him with concern. "You're killing people now, Charlie?"

"No. I only knocked him out. He was going after the girls. He could have hurt them."

"Well, I'm sure the girls should not dress as boys and burgle haciendas. The risk would be a lot less. I never wanted this for you. Charlie, you can stop this. Think of your sisters, and of yourself. Crime is a fool's game. Especially in Los Angeles. There is Zorro to contend with."

"Someone was saying that he was dead. There is nothing to worry about. He is either dead or out of the area. I am thinking of my sisters. The de la Vega family have so many pretty things, things they don't need. Some of those trinkets could pay for your medicine, Uncle."

"I don't want medicine bought with blood money. That's what it is if you have killed that man."

"I want to go home, Charlie."

"Clara, you cry all the time. Stop it. There is nothing for us there now. Mother is dead, and father too. All we have is us, and we have to eat somehow."

"One of us could get a job in the tavern. Some of us could work with horses or as labourers. I'm not frightened of dressing as a boy. I'm as strong as Charlie and probably stronger."

"Eliza, you are a lady. A woman now. You can't do such things."

"You are not my father or my husband, Charles. If I am a woman, I will do as I please."

"Please don't argue, it scares me when you argue." Clara sat down and wept into a handkerchief.

"What I am saying is we don't have to steal, or kill or whatever. We could work like normal people," Eliza said, ignoring her sister.

"It's faster if we steal. It will take years to set ourselves up without our parents. With Uncle Bill being so sick…" Charles glanced at his uncle who was asleep again.

"He is probably dying. I am not going to have any of us end up in a mission orphanage," he added in a lower voice. Clara would be more upset and he did love his youngest sister.

Eliza sighed and held back her own tears. She was sixteen, a year older than Charles. He was tall for his age and looked around twenty, but he was still young and she should be running the family not him. As the oldest boy, he had assumed control and his sense of authority was strong. Besides, she was just a girl in a man's world, and although she hated it, Charles was seen as the head of the family. After their uncle, of course. Uncle William was so ill, and getting worse every day. He slept most of the time and was really no help at all.

She concentrated and fussed around Maggie, the twelve-year-old. Maggie was blind. She tried to stay quiet and docile, but Eliza could imagine the terror in her sister. To go through all this was bad enough, in the dark, it would be nightmarish. Maggie nursed their uncle, staying in the shadows of the cave. She only ventured out when Eliza escorted her. Maggie was very pretty and would have been the beauty of the family. Eliza decided she was built like a boy and there was no point in thinking of her own appearance these days.

To talk of balls and husbands and dresses would be too painful, let alone useless, but she had been dreaming of the social whirl since their cousin had been gossiping about it. She had been promised a ball for her seventeenth birthday, but that was not going to happen now. She knew they had other family in London, but without funds, they could not get there. With Charlie's turn towards burglary and robbery, she was terrified. Talking to him about the errors of his ways was useless. She had tried so many times.

Charlie stormed out of the cave, dwelling on his own thoughts. Eliza could imagine the problems in the young boy's mind, but if he only listened they would all be safer.

"Lizzie, I'm scared. I want Mama."

The ten-year-old was still in tears. "It's going to be alright, Clara. We will leave Charlie if we have to. This is getting dangerous."

"Lizzie," Maggie said softly. Eliza glanced up at her sister's white face. "Lizzie…"

"I'm here," Eliza said quickly, making her way up to the makeshift bed where Uncle Bill lay. Maggie grabbed for her hand, and Eliza could feel the younger girl shaking as she held Maggie's hand tightly.

"I don't think he's breathing," Maggie whispered so that Clara would be shielded from the new problem. "Oh Lizzie, I think he's dead."

Eliza paled and had to fight the dizziness of an impending faint. She missed the confidence booster of her smelling salts.

"Maybe he's just sleeping deeply?" She let go of her sister's hand after an encouraging squeeze.

She felt for breathing. She felt for a pulse. She wasn't sure what else she could do. She was almost sure that the older man was dead, but the weakest throb met her probing fingers. Eliza sighed with relief, aware that she had held her breath.

"What was that noise, Lizzie? Is someone else here?"

"Maggie, it's alright. It's just us."

"I heard something."

Eliza squeezed her sister's hand again and then dropped it to glance down at the entrance to the cave. "Clara?"

There was no answer. There was no one else in the cave.

"Clara!"

Eliza's heart almost burst out of her rib cage. Where was she? She glanced back at Maggie. There was no way she could leave Maggie here with no one. Uncle Bill would die sooner or later, and she would not leave her sister to face that alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Clara had left her family behind. She was too upset to stay. She wanted to know if that man that Charlie had hit over the head with the marble bust was dead, but she didn't know what she would do if he was. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave.

The wind was still cold, and she was dressed in the same clothes that she had left home in, all those months before. She glanced back, but running from the cave was the biggest mistake she had made. Clara suppressed a sob, knowing that she was lost. She needed to find a road or something. Should she find the cave again? She was confused. Having never had a sense of direction she was totally lost.

She decided on the road. Charlie said the orphanage was a scary place where children were treated like prisoners, but maybe he was wrong. He couldn't know everything. Maybe someone kind could help them all?

That night when Charlie had decided to burgle the de la Vega hacienda, Eliza had tried to stop him. Following behind in the darkness, Eliza was determined to stop him somehow, by any means. The girls had followed their brother through the broken door, and Eliza's whispered tirade had been ignored once again. When the man had surprised them all, Charles had acted impulsively, grabbing the first thing he saw. The marble bust had looked heavy and the man had fallen without a sound. Maybe he was dead. Then Charlie was a murderer.

Clara wished she could have stayed with the man. She could have helped him, but Eliza had dragged her back to the cave, with Charles shepherding them. Eliza had trembled, and Charlie's face was as white as their mother's fine china. Clara had fought to see through tears and although she resisted a little, she had to submit to her sister. There was no choice.

Now she had no choice but to trust herself and find someone to help her. Maybe they could help her family as well. There was no way she could remember the way back to the cave. It was well hidden and she had travelled a long way before she considered going back.

She was hungry and thirsty and getting tired again. The wind cut through her clothes and her threadbare shawl was no protection. She shivered with the cold and with her fears. She wanted her mother, she was brave with her mother. Her mother was strong and determined, like Eliza. Clara decided not to think about the way her mother had died, and to concentrate on being more like her mother.

Some of the snow had melted, and it wasn't hard to walk. The snow had stopped falling for now, but the clouds were heavy and dark. She didn't know if it would snow again soon, and she wasn't sure what she would do if it did.

The clink of a bridle startled her, and she ducked instinctively. A horse and rider were passing by, and she wanted to be sure before she announced herself to a stranger.

It was a scruffy vaquero on the track, who scanned the surroundings before waving forward five more men. She held her breath and covered her mouth with her hand. Charlie was the sixth man, who walked over to meet them.

"Well, did you bring the items?"

"I couldn't get very much, I was interrupted."

"So we heard."

"Did I kill the man?"

"I don't know. Mixing in that company isn't part of a normal day. All I know is that the soldiers are hunting the robbers. Because you failed in your errand."

"The kid was meant to slip in and slip out like a ghost, not like a blundering fool. Carlos, we are not nursemaids."

"Did you get the letter?"

"I didn't get that far, Sir. Once I knocked the man down, I had to leave. The household was startled awake by all the noise."

"That was the main aim of the robbery," someone said. A murmur of conversation rippled through the group.

"I could try again," Charles said with a nervous tremor to his voice.

"No point," Carlos said. "I guess those sisters of yours will go hungry today."

"Give me another errand," Charles said with a visible shudder.

"If you fail this time, one of your sisters will be forfeit."

"What if I succeed?"

"Are you sure you want to risk it, kid?"

"I won't fail again. I've learnt my mistake. Please let me try again."

"Very well," Carlos said. "In the alcalde's office, there is a bag of pesos - the reward for the capture of Zorro."

"I don't think I could capture Zorro."

"No, I don't think you could either. Let's make it easier. Just get the bag of pesos. If you can do that you will join the team. Your sisters will be safe. Francis can take care of them."

Charles went white but nodded. "It will be a piece of cake, Carlos. You can trust me."

"Remember if you fail again, then one of your sisters will be forfeit."

"What….what does that mean?"

"Slavery," one of the cowboys said with a chuckle.

Clara tightened her hand over her mouth and hoped the man was joking. Or trying to frighten Charles. Her brother visibly swallowed, as if he realised what he had done.

ZZZ

Clara waited for the men to leave and watched Charles leave to go back to the cave. She didn't follow him, she was too angry. He was an idiot and a fool. She was only ten, but even she had seen what had happened. His pride and arrogance had made him sell them into slavery. He couldn't be clever enough to steal a bag of coins from a fortress full of soldiers.

Someone could help her. Even if she could find a soldier they would stop the bandits. They wouldn't want the reward to be stolen. Maybe if someone was kind, they could stop Charles and keep them all safe. This situation was worsening by the moment.

It was even colder towards the late afternoon, and she folded her arms across her body and hugged herself. She had found the road and had been walking for what felt like hours.

Another horseman was on the road, and she froze. There was nowhere to hide. She was in the middle of the road, and as the horse came closer, it grew nervous.

She let out a scream and the horse reared. A well dressed, handsome gentleman slipped off the saddle and managed to control a fall so that he landed safely. The horse galloped the opposite way, and the man paused watching it, catching his breath.

"Oh. That's far from good."

He glanced at the shivering, shaking little girl who had crunched into a ball as if waiting to shield herself for an impact.

"My name is Diego," he said. "Are you alright?"

Zzz

So much for a steady mount, Diego thought. Ferdinand was meant to be the quietest horse in the de la Vega stables. He knew Esmeralda wouldn't have been so flighty. His father had insisted on the mount if riding was to be an option. And Diego was sure he would go insane if he couldn't get outside the hacienda and do something. So Ferdinand was the mount.

Now he was abandoned in the middle of nowhere, with a lost little girl.

He crouched down with the girl and touched her shoulder.

"It's alright, you're not hurt," Diego said, gently, after surveying her for injuries. She was shaking from head to toe, and tears leaked out of tightly shut eyes.

He thought about shelter. He could not guarantee a rescue before dark. They would need a fire and somewhere safe to sleep outside of the wind.

"What's your name?"

"Cl...Cl...Clara," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"You had a fright, Clara. I'm a good horseman. I know how to fall from a horse so that I don't hurt myself. But now we're stuck here for a while."

She sniffed and starting looking for a handkerchief that was obviously no longer there.

"Here," Diego said. He gave her his own handkerchief, and she started crying again.

It had been a few days since he had been injured. His head was getting less dizzy, hence the confidence of the riding. He had outridden his companion, a stablehand that Alejandro had tasked for the errand. He wasn't dizzy or anywhere near it now. He was a little lethargic, but that was nothing that new.

"Are you lost, Clara?" Diego said and immediately felt stupid. Of course, she was lost. What was she? Six? Surely she should have parents nearby?

"My mother is dead, and my father. My brother is being stupid, and my sisters are no help."

Diego's attention was drawn immediately. "There are more of you?"

"I don't know where they are, I am a bit lost."

"Alright." Diego struggled for a moment. What was he to do with a child that young? Where were the others? He didn't even have a horse, and the sun would set soon.

Shelter. Warmth. Food. Water. His mind clicked over. Basics of survival. He sighed and realised that was what he had to work on first. Then he could find the other children.


	6. Chapter 6

Diego was still thinking. He had draped his jacket around the little girl and he thought in the cold, his arms crossed over his chest. They had moved out of the wind, behind a large boulder, and Diego was trying to remind himself about the terrain. He knew there was a cave system somewhere, but he couldn't quite remember where. A cheerful fire was struggling a little but staying lit. He had built it underground to keep it alight, being out of the breeze that had blown it out more than once. It had two openings to channel the air to keep the fire alive. It wasn't very warming, but it was enough to keep the cold at bay.

Clara was getting sleepy, and he wrapped her tighter in the jacket so that the material could shield her from the cold ground a little. He sat with her, letting her lie her head on his lap. She was asleep within moments, and Diego kept watch as long as he could. After a while, the stillness and the calm silence made him drowsy and he drifted into a light sleep.

"Don Diego! Can you hear me?"

"Jose?" Diego startled awake. The fire was almost out and it was still dark.

Jose was standing over him in a few moments, irritated that he had been left behind. He had been sent to keep the still recovering Diego under watch so that accidents could be prevented. He had tracked Ferdinand obviously.

"Don Diego, do you know how long I have been looking for you? Hours in the freezing wind, and worrying that you were dead somewhere."

"I had a slight accident. I'm unharmed, Jose. Just lost my mount."

"Well, I would not have recommended Ferdinand. He may be the oldest gelding in the stable, but his nature is unreliable."

There was a jingle of bridles, and Jose brought Ferdinand into view. Jose's horse grazed nearby, obedient and quiet.

Diego took the hint but shook his head. "The little girl. You'll have to hand her to me once I'm mounted."

"Little girl?" Jose approached Diego curiously and noticed the girl finally. He lifted the sleeping child into his arms. Diego mounted smoothly and took Clara from the man. Somehow she had stayed asleep with the less than gentle handling.

"She must be exhausted," Diego said with concern. Diego decided to stay safe and match the stablehand's horse. Ferdinand had enjoyed his earlier canter that had edged into a gallop. The speed was brisk but not fast. Jose's eyes were more watchful now, knowing now that Diego was likely to outpace him easily.

Zzz

Alejandro had been pacing the floor in the library, trying to think positively. When Diego entered the room, he was greeted by a speechless father, who scanned him for obvious injuries with a deepening frown. Diego could feel the tension building.

"Can we wait until morning for the lecture, Father?"

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Tired, but no new bruises. Found a child in the wilds, brought her home with me."

Diego yawned into his hand. Alejandro paused to try to consider what Diego had said.

"You found a child?"

"That's what I said. Let me go to bed, and I will tell you all about my day in the morning."

"We should contact her family."

"Yes, but her parents are dead, according to her."

"It's almost midnight."

"Yes, Ferdinand abandoned me in the middle of nowhere. I'm riding Esperanza next time. At least she is loyal enough to stay with me."

Diego was frowning, thinking about the difference in horses. He had not spent much time with Ferdinand, having his favourite mare. He could have controlled the gelding easily but he had been taken off guard. He should have been more aware, more focused on his environment. The girl could have been a snake.

"Well, are you alright, son?"

"Yes, tired and cold, but fine really. The little girl is sleeping in the old nursery, and Maria knows about her. She'll keep watch over her."

"Well. It will be interesting to have a young child in the house again. Yes, good night. I am looking forward to hearing all about your adventure in the morning."

Diego smiled at the muted excitement in his father's voice and made his way to his own room. He was very tired, a little more than he would have liked or expected. He hoped the problems swirling in his mind would settle and be easily solved in the morning. It seemed very complicated and messy.

Zzz

Diego slept solidly to around 10 the next morning. Feeling like he had overslept, he made his way to the library, determined to talk to his father. Hearing Alejandro laugh startled Diego, and he realised he hadn't laughed like that since Felipe had been small. Diego couldn't help smiling at the memory and savouring the happy sound.

"Hello. You seem to have met each other," Diego said as he walked outside.

"Yes, Clara is a very nice young lady."

"I have to get Charles and Eliza and Maggie," Clara said. "They are staying without Uncle William in the cave."

"What is your last name, Clara?" Diego asked gently. He had heard what she had said, and it was still a high priority but so were other things.

"Oh. My name is Clara Dalton, my father's name was Sir Matthew Dalton."

"Matthew Dalton?" Alejandro said sharply.

"Have you heard of the man, Father?" Diego said in surprise. The sense of coincidence was startling.

"Yes," Alejandro said slowly, as if reluctantly. Sir Matthew was dead, along with his wife. The little girl was an orphan. "Your mother's name was Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Don Alejandro."

Clara was watching them with curiosity, and Diego turned to his father.

"Father?"

"I think I knew their grandfather, Diego."

"How?"

"Charles Dalton was in the English military. His almost grown son's name was Matthew. We knew each other, and we were friends. He talked about his family and his son's plans. We served in a joint operation, in military intelligence."

"Is he still alive?"

"I'm not sure, I haven't heard from him for a few years. There may be family still in England. I can write to a mutual friend and find out. It would be best to get the children back to their own family. If we can…"

"Charlie said we are not going to an orphanage."

"How old is Charlie?"

"He's fourteen."

"What else does Charlie say?" Alejandro asked, considering Clara's offhand comment.

"I want to know something," Clara said as if remembering something important. She didn't realise that she had changed the subject dramatically, or that she had ignored the question.

"If I know the answer I will tell you," Diego said gently, glancing at his father over Clara's head.

"Charlie had to get a letter from the de la Vega house, and we followed him and he knocked someone over with the bust ornament and we ran. Did the man die? I don't want Charlie to be a murderer."

Diego and Alejandro looked at each other and then at Clara. "This is the de la Vega house," Alejandro said, realising that the little girl didn't recognise it in the daylight. They had introduced themselves by their first names, trying to be easier for the child to deal with than authority figures.

"The man that was hurt is alright, Clara. It was me," Diego said. "Charlie is not a murderer. Although Charlie and I need to have a decent conversation."

"Fourteen? Whacking people over the head with busts is not acceptable behaviour," Alejandro said, thinking about possible disciplinary actions suitable for a young boy. A riding crop to a young man's behind would soon drive that behaviour out of him.

"Father, I am sure the boy was afraid. He grabbed the first thing he could find. I'm sure he wanted me to leave him alone. He didn't want or mean to kill me."

"It was wrong. I thought he killed you," Clara said, a tear tracing its way down her face. She sniffed a little. "He could have killed you."

Alejandro looked at Diego.

"Do something," he whispered. "There will be tears and crying." He sounded a little daunted and unsure.

There had not been women of breeding in the hacienda for decades, little or grown. Victoria's visits were few and far between, and she didn't generally dissolve into tears unexpectedly. A show of raw emotion was a lot more frightening than bandits for the older man.

"But, see Clara? I am alright. I am not angry either, although that brother of yours needs some talking to. There's no need to cry. Everything will be alright very soon. You are safe now, and your brother and sisters will be safe too," Diego said softly. He crouched down and offered her another linen handkerchief, aware that she didn't seem to have his other one.

Clara gave a weak smile as she took the handkerchief. She sniffed into it and blew her nose. She tried to hand it back to Diego, but he declined.

"You seem to need that more than I do, Clara. Although strictly speaking I should call you Senorita Dalton."

"I think Eliza gets the title Miss Dalton. Maggie is Miss Margaret Dalton, and I am just Clara."

"Well now. That is very clever. I never would have known that," Diego said with a smile. "Although I am sure that you are Miss Clara Dalton, my dear."

"You can call me Clara if you like, Don Diego. You're nice."

Zzz

Maria took Clara to give the gentlemen some space. Diego was sure the agenda was lunch and a nap. It was a relief to know that sensitive ears were not listening in on their adult conversation, and the two men enjoyed a relaxed lunch in private.

"What would the letter have to do with anything? What would have possessed the boy to burgle our house?"

"I'm sure that this is just the start of something a lot larger," Diego said. "How big was the group you worked with, this joint operation?"

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with that. It was a strange coincidence, but it is only a coincidence."

"How big is an intelligence team?"

"Diego, I'm sure you don't need to worry about such things."

"Father, we should know if someone wants to do us harm," Diego said with a sigh. "This letter, whoever wanted it didn't manage to get it. They may try again."

"Don't worry about this, Diego. I have the situation well in hand," Alejandro said. "If this is significant, then I have the experience and the knowledge to deal with it."

"Father…"

"I think you and Clara need to move somewhere safer until the matter is resolved. I don't want either of you hurt. I'm sure Felipe would like to spend some time somewhere different too."

"Father… I…" Diego struggled to find words to express his frustration and then sighed. He was Alejandro's son and he had a duty to support his father. Being evacuated like a child did not feel right, and the lack of trust in his abilities hurt.

Alejandro put a hand over Diego's hand. "I know," he murmured. "But you can't help me that way, Diego. I need you to keep the children safe, and to keep you safe as well."

"I could…"

"Diego. When you fought Risendo you were fighting for everything you held dear. Desperation made you fight well, but it was desperation, not experience. You would end up hurting yourself."

"Father…"

"I know you are not a coward. I was wrong to ever utter such a word to describe you. You have taken it too seriously, I said it in a temper. I didn't really mean it in the first place. There is no need to prove anything to me. I saw you fight. You don't run when a threat arises, I believe that. Stop trying to prove your bravery before it kills you."

Diego stared at his father in shock. "Father, I'm not a coward."

"I know. You fight differently to me. You fight. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I can't lose you, you need to listen to me."

"You can't fight an unknown enemy on your own," Diego protested. "I can't lose you either."

"I don't think I will be fighting alone," Alejandro assured him. "Zorro will support me, and maybe an old friend will get involved as well."

"I'm sure Zorro will get involved," Diego said with his usual confidence. "What old friend?"


	7. Chapter 7

Alejandro considered his son thoughtfully and shook his head slowly.

"I don't like your interest in this, Diego."

"My safety is at stake. I need to know things so that I can rest easy that we are all safe. I am less likely to interfere with this problem if I know who is involved and trust that it is under control."

"That makes sense, I suppose."

"Of course it makes sense."

Alejandro took a deep breath, and his eyes drifted away from Diego, staring into space as if looking into history.

"I told you about your uncle, didn't I?"

"Avenging Alonzo's caused a reunion between you and your team, and the idea almost killed you. I don't think I'd forget that."

"Yes. Although my life was never at risk. We may be older and not in constant training but we have a lot more experience than you. Together we have more experience than Zorro, probably."

"Is there more to Alonzo's life that has something to do with this problem?"

"In a way, yes. In other ways no."

"Father you are not communicating anything new. Keep it to yourself if you must, but don't expect me to not want to get involved."

Diego rose to his feet, feeling that his growing anger was slightly unjust, seeing that he had kept a lot of secrets from his father. He knew his father had the right to his secrets, but it didn't stop him worrying.

"Diego, wait. I am trying to tell you."

Diego glanced at his father, and his expression softened. He sat down again and tried to be patient.

"You don't know much about our family, do you?"

"I haven't had a chance to know about them. Was Alonzo your only brother?"

"Alonzo was not my only brother. I also had two sisters. I have another brother, a lot younger than me. We have lost contact. We had an argument that neither of us could forgive, but it was years ago. Maybe with maturity, we can now. We were both in the military. He could even be dead, killed in action. He could be still in Spain."

"A friend? You said a friend."

"Sebastian was my best friend at one stage in my life. He is an old friend. He is also a brother. If he is still alive."

"How can we find out?"

"I can find out easily enough. You have to stay out of this. Promise me you will."

"I can't promise anything of the kind. I can agree to leave it to the experts, but I will not promise not to get involved if necessary. I don't want to have to break a promise."

Alejandro gave a half-hearted smile. "I told you...you don't need to prove yourself to me. I know you stand with me. Words can be more powerful than a sword. Someday words will win the day just like Zorro's sword."

"I love you, you're my father. I want you to be safe as well. How can you expect me not to? Do you see me as so weak that I would run away? Why would I?" Diego said. He looked down, turning his head sharply, wondering why he had said that. The words had slipped out, along with a long-hidden bitterness. He didn't feel bitter, but he was.

Alejandro stared at his son with more awareness than he had in years. Hadn't Diego run away at times? He was certainly not around all the time when he could have been needed. He sounded hurt and offended as if he had always been standing beside him, and had been ignored. It had been a strange thing to say, but his son had not been the same since Gilberto had been killed in front of him.

"I'm sorry," Diego said, shaking his head slowly. "I really am. If you'll excuse me…"

This time Diego made sure he left the table before his father could find the words to ask any questions that might be harder to answer than he would like. By the time Alejandro had gathered his thoughts well enough to think to follow him, he had entered the coolness of the hidden cave. Alejandro's concerned search for his son would be fruitless.

Zzz

"This is a big mess, Felipe, and it's getting bigger by the moment. I want to put all this behind me and start again," Diego said, gesturing to the collection that filled the cave. "I'm sick and tired of being sidelined in important matters. Zorro would never be."

Felipe's eyes widened. He traced a "Z" in the air, and then a line across his throat.

"Yes, maybe he is dead. Maybe he should stay that way."

Felipe shook his head hard, and touched Diego's arm gently.

"The teasing is friendly enough, but it's still teasing. There are still people who think I can't even ride safely. Not just with a concussion. Always."

Felipe made a few more signs with a frown, and a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I know. I made them think that way. And it was for a good reason, at the time. I want to be respected, just like anyone else. Just not as Zorro, as me. And for my father to have a son he can respect and be proud of without thinking too hard about it. A son like Gilberto could have been, a son I could be. If Zorro stays dead under the rubble in that canyon."

Felipe made the sign that meant Victoria, and Diego sighed. Victoria. What would he do about Victoria? What could he say to her? Did he have to tell her the truth? Would it just make her angry and hate him? Or was it an idea just to soothe his hurt pride? Maybe it was selfish to tell her? Maybe it was selfish not to.

He stared at the black suit hanging at arm's length from him on its stand. Like a museum piece, like a weapon of old. Sometimes it had called to him in the past, as a solace for hurt pride, a drive to action. Like a magic sword in a fairytale. It was silent now, just a relic waiting to be forgotten.

Toranado snorted, and glanced over at him. Felipe had been in charge of exercising the stallion for all the months that Zorro had rested, and the teenager was strong enough now to be in full control. Diego stared at the horse, as if sharing the horse's need for a solid gallop for miles. Something Felipe had not dared to do so far, frightened that if he gave the horse his head he would never regain control.

Toranado missed his true rider. His true rider wondered if he missed the excitement of Zorro's ride, or if the excitement was dead for good. Maybe he had finally grown up.


	8. Chapter 8

Diego walked into the tavern early the next day, determined to make an early start, but also wanting to spend time near the woman he loved. It was becoming a yearning that he could barely control. He had tried so hard to stay busy with distractions, with general busyness, with errands for his father. He had given in to his cravings this morning. It would have been faster to just set off to search for the lost children straight away.

Victoria was busy behind the bar. Not many people rose at dawn in the pueblo, not at this time of year. In winter people were still in bed, trying to convince themselves to get up and face the day.

"Buenas Dias, Victoria," Diego said, and smiled at her surprise. She almost dropped the cloth she held as she wiped the counter. The automatic smile that lit her eyes and her pretty lips filled him with a vague hope, and his heart raced for a moment.

"Buenas Dias, Don Diego. You are up and about earlier than most of the pueblo today."

"First time for everything," Diego said, trying to ignore the sting in his own words. "You may have heard we have a new friend at the hacienda."

"Someone was saying it was a little girl. Is she alright?"

"Yes, Maria is taking an interest in her, she's fine. Winding two gentlemen around her finger, and annoying Felipe without meaning to. She's a little angel."

"Where are her parents?"

"She tells us they are dead. She has a brother and sisters lost in the mountains, and my father's men have been looking without much luck."

"Poor children. It would be freezing in those mountains. It's been snowing there for some time."

"Well, Clara says their Uncle has been with them the whole time, but is too sick to help much. I am planning on looking for them after one of your magnificent breakfasts. I used to explore the mountains a lot as a youngster."

"And you never got lost?"

"I think the problem these days is that there is too much on my mind. I get distracted and lose my way. All those adult responsibilities and contemplations."

Victoria smiled. "I'll get some coffee brewing, and some eggs cooking. No one else has ventured out yet. Do you know how early you are?"

"I left the hacienda just before dawn," Diego said with a shrug. "My father is concerned about me lately, and I didn't want to discuss my plans at length. I'll talk to him later."

"Diego, that's not like you."

"Well, Victoria, I can't let those children freeze to death up there in the mountains. Not when I could find them with a bit of effort. We all need to work together these days. Zorro is not around to save us now."

Victoria drew in a breath, and Diego paled a little. That had been a little harsh and insensitive. He was going about this all wrong, and words were spilling out without much thought lately.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Victoria."

"It's just that absolutely no one has seen Zorro. No one. Not even a caballero or a vaquero. Not even from a distance. Not since that day when Risendo trapped him in the canyon. No one found a body, but…" Her voice broke off, and she walked hurriedly to the kitchen, ducking through the curtain.

"Surely he has sent a message to you?" Diego said, following her. She was upset, and tears were threatening in her dark eyes. Guilt struck him as hard as a fist to the gut, and he winced as she looked down to try to compose herself.

She shook her head.

"Maybe he was hurt, maybe he is waiting until he has healed. He is probably a proud man who doesn't want you to worry about fussing over him while he heals."

"I'm sure you are right. It's strange that no one has disappeared from the pueblo. I thought Zorro might have been a local man."

"You've been thinking about who he could be?"

"Yes, a woman likes to know who she is in love with," she said crossly. She snatched up a towel and turned, sniffing to hide her tears as she dried them.

"The man does not deserve your tears, I am sure."

"I love him. That is all I know. I love the man not the mask. He doesn't believe me. Maybe he's gone because he can't believe me."

"I'm sure he knows you love him. As much as he loves you."

"Can you help me, Diego? You are clever, perhaps you could find out who he is and if he is alive. And maybe get a message to him?"

"Of course. Do you mind if I stay in the kitchen with you? The empty tavern is lonely."

She smiled, and nodded to the table. "It's hardly a place for a wealthy gentleman to wait, but of course you are welcome in here."

"As soon as I find the children, I will give your problem all my attention. You don't deserve this fear. Maybe he is taking longer than usual to heal, and is waiting until he is strong enough to defend himself before risking a visit to you. Maybe he doesn't know how to get a message to you safely?"

"You are a good friend, Diego," she said, turning to her tasks at the stove. Soon the smell of coffee, toast and eggs filled the kitchen.

Yes, a good friend, Diego thought. Just a good friend. It was like he was helping someone else court his own fiancee. She still had his ring, he sometimes saw glimpses of it on a cord around her neck. If his father saw it, questions would be raised, but it was on a long cord. Diego only saw the ring flash when he dared to look when she leaned over carelessly. He was sure he blushed as he did so, but no one had commented on it.

Victoria had been leaning over carelessly for a while now, Diego remembered. He wondered why she was getting so thoughtless. She never seemed to be so careless around anyone else. He supposed she was comfortable around the de la Vega family, and didn't expect him of all people to be so attentive. He would have to ignore it from now on, telling her would only embarrass his friend. Yes, he would ignore it from now on.

She smelt like roses this morning, which suggested spring time and the warmth of a blush filled his face as he thought about it. He must be sitting too close to the stove. And the open fire at the hearth was producing a lot of heat as well. Victoria was attending to her cooking and didn't notice Diego's awkwardness.

He had dressed warmly for his search, a little too warmly for the kitchen. She served him at the table and sat with him, drinking her own coffee and nibbling on some toast.

"I could come with you to look for the children. How are you going to transport a sick man and several children on Esperanza all by yourself? You need a cart at the very least. You do so much for me, and I never do anything for you."

"The tavern?"

"It's winter time. Demand is not going to be large, and Pilar and Sofia can manage for a day or two. I'm worried about those children. That man could be dead by now, and then what would they do?"

"Well, I hope he isn't, but of course it's a possibility. Have you got some very warm clothes? It is freezing out there." He knew better than to argue with Victoria over helping others. It was always better to have her working with him than separately. He could keep an eye on her, and keep her from harm much easier than playing 'catch up' with her antics.

"I will gather a picnic and some blankets for everyone. If there was any way to keep the coffee warm I would bring that, or some soup, but I'm afraid I will have to wait until we return."

Diego nodded, and watched her race upstairs to organise her expedition. Part of him was resigned to her company, but part of him sang with happiness that she was coming with him. He considered the idea of perhaps investigating the possibility of transporting warmed liquid on a cold day, but regulated it to the back of his mind. It had potential.

He grabbed the coffee pot, and rinsed it in scalding water from the kettle that hung over the fire. Then he gathered the coffee, a small bag of sugar and some mugs. Maybe they could not transport hot coffee, but they could prepare it over a fire somewhere on the road. There were always ways to solve problems, if you kept your wits about you, Diego reminded himself, as he fetched some dry kindling and firewood to go with his supplies.


	9. Chapter 9

Diego thought there had been no way to avoid offending Victoria when they packed the cart. He offered advice, advice that any sensible man would have taken in his stride. He should have lifted the heavy bags without a word, but he was trying to treat Victoria as an equal. Flustered he covered his confusion by offering her a hand to climb abroad the cart, but she had avoided him.

Communication was his main weakness, he decided, as Victoria drove the cart. They travelled in silence, as Diego's confidence had faltered altogether and Victoria was still offended. If they weren't going to talk, what was the point of working together?

"So where are these caves meant to be?" Victoria said, firmly. She stared straight ahead, ignoring him completely. He wasn't completely sure she had spoken at first.

"Diego, the caves?"

"Oh, they are around the foothills of the mountains, mostly. There are a few on higher ground, but how good can children be at climbing?"

"I don't know, Diego. How good were you at climbing?" This time she glanced at him, her voice firm and sharp. "Whatever you managed, you can expect children to do better. It's not as if you were that adventurous surely?"

And today had started so well, Diego thought with an inward sigh. She was a few years younger than Diego and not invited to adventure with her younger brothers in the mountains. If she had forgiven the offence of being treated as a girl, which he somehow doubted, she had the evidence of the last couple of years to consider any tales of adventure over-exaggeration at the very least.

Her eyes were not soft. They had that fire within that matched her mood, irritated and frustrated and maybe she was wondering why. Her lips were pressed together in thought, and she shook her head.

"That's not fair. I'm sorry, Don Diego. I shouldn't bring your weaknesses up in front of you."

Far better than behind my back, Diego thought. Her eyes had lost the hardness and had softened. Maybe she was irritated because she still expected more from him, Diego thought.

"No offence taken," Diego said, swallowing the bitterness of the lie.

"Tell me about the caves," she said, flicking the reins to make the horse trot rather than walk.

"They are very extensive," Diego said. He stared into space, remembering a few adventures that he had been scared at the time he would never overcome. He had been on the verge of death a few times, due to unexpected crevices and cliffs. He'd never tell her that, or his father.

He had feared he was lost more than once and had somehow stumbled on an exit. That was before he managed to map the caves properly. The fear had probably sparked the idea of the map. At the back of his memory, the map was still there, blurry in patches, but simple enough. If he didn't go too far, there was no danger at all.

"I explored them for years," Diego said. "I got to know the layout pretty well, although it has been a number of years since I've ventured out. I was more flexible then."

"Children are more agile in general," Victoria said. "Children can be like mountain goats. Most little ones have no fear of heights."

"Your brother was a little bit afraid of heights," Diego said, thinking back. Young Ramon Escalante had witnessed Diego's dramatic fall that had narrowly missed killing him. He had survived with a broken arm and bruised ego. He couldn't remember which hurt the most. Ramon was more hesitant than the other boys from then on.

"Well, it shows that the Escalante family is cautious and clever."

"It does indeed. I owe my life to your brothers, they saved me more than once."

"Really?" Victoria sneaked a look at him. Diego was gazing at the mountains, remembering adventures that had happened long ago. "Comments like that make one think there is more to you than people say…"

"I hardly think a foolish childhood carries over to adulthood as courage. Quite the opposite. An adult is more cautious especially since experience makes one aware of the dangers. I would never do some things again. The foolhardy antics of a twelve-year-old are quite blood-curdling."

"How could such courage just die like that? What happened to you, Diego?"

"That isn't courage, Victoria. That was a boy showing off to his friends, and lucky to find his way to safety. That is pure recklessness. Not bravery."

"What do you consider to be courage then?"

Diego thought for a moment, concentrating on the horse in front of him. He focused on the rhythm of the horse's movements and they soothed a strange uneasiness that had arisen. He decided to be honest.

"Courage. It is having the knowledge of the risks and dangers and threats and acting anyway. Very few people are truly courageous. I am certainly not courageous." He considered the fact that he could not bear the idea of telling either his father or Victoria any of the true facts of his life an example of pure cowardice.

"Sometimes you are, Diego. Those times you spoke out… That proved you were brave."

"What times?"

"That time you stood up for the pueblo over the water issue, the newspaper, Thackery…"

"Some of that was foolishness," Diego said, sternly. "Stupidity is not courage."

"A lot of that was calculated. The newspaper is very deliberately thought out. Thackery...there was no way you should have survived that fight."

"Thackery was a boastful idiot. Someone had to stand up for you," Diego said with annoyance. "That day I didn't prove my courage, I proved that I could lose my temper like any other fool."

"Well, Diego," Victoria said gently. "I certainly appreciated it. I was so worried about you. I was almost pleased you wrenched your ankle."

"My ankle?" Diego said, wondering why that was significant. Yes, that had been his ruse to stop the fight before he revealed his skills or Thackery could succeed in killing him.

"Don't you remember?"

Diego remembered. Her hands had been soft as she had tended to the 'injury', bathing his foot and strapping it up. He felt his face grow warm and turned his head. It was bad enough that he blushed over the memory, but if Victoria noticed there might be trouble.

Something glinted from up high in the mountains. Sunlight reflecting off a piece of metal or glass. It shocked Diego out of his memory and he composed himself quickly. Surely that was not a natural reflection?

Possibly someone with a telescope was standing up there. It suggested an adult with schemes not a group of children, but he had had a handheld telescope as a young teenager, so it was possible.

"What is it, Diego?" Victoria had noticed his attention had diverted from her to the mountain. "Can you see the children?"

"Someone is watching us," Diego said, grimly. He hoped it was a friend and not an enemy.


	10. Chapter 10

Charles and his sisters crouched in the cave, trying to keep warm. They had run out of firewood, and the help they had received from the bandits had dried up. Charlie hadn't dared tell Eliza of the deal he had made with the leader of the bandits. Uncle Bill was getting weaker by the hour, and there was no one Charles could talk to. He knew he had done the wrong thing, something his father would have fixed easily, shaking his head at his son's foolishness.

His father wasn't here now. His uncle was unconscious most of the time. Eliza was smart but she was just a girl. She didn't know about the world. What would she know that he didn't, anyway? Even if she was a boy, she was only a year older than him. Being sheltered from the problems of the world, they lacked practical skills. Charles was ashamed to admit that he couldn't even fire a pistol, and the blow with the marble bust had been a mere fluke. He had just caught the man off guard. He hoped he hadn't killed the man, but he had fallen without a sound.

"Where is Clara?"

Eliza glanced up at him with a frown. "It's taken you 24 hours to notice she's missing?"

"You could have told me. Or gone looking yourself."

"This is not my fault, Charlie. You are the man of this family, or so you say. Maggie can't be left alone here with Uncle William. It wouldn't be fair, not with you disappearing all the time. It's not as if we are in our own home."

Charles frowned and struggled to find something to say. His youngest sister was missing, and missing for over 24 hours. Who knew where she went? Wandering off in the snow, she could have frozen to death in the mountains. She could have fallen down a crevice or been covered by an avalanche.

He needed to work out how to break into the Alcalde's office in the pueblo. Maybe he could find his sister on the way, or at least find out what had happened to her. He did love her, and the sense of responsibility spurred a sense of guilt for neglecting her safety. There was nowhere to go for help. If he went to the church they would be put into the orphanage, and that was unacceptable. There didn't seem to be anyone else to go to. Uncle William was the only relative they knew, and he wasn't even a relative.

"I didn't tell you, because you have only just come back. I don't know if I would have either. I would have let you have a turn at minding Maggie and Uncle William for a change. I could have found her by now if I had a chance to look."

Charles looked at Maggie who was trying to sleep or pretend to. She seemed a little upset as well, but unwilling to voice any complaint. She was like that, she would swallow her fear as long as she could. They said a lot of things out loud that their parents would have had issues with, but they were no longer here. Maggie used to have a friendly little maid to help her, and her brother and sisters made themselves busy elsewhere.

"A bit of understanding would be nice, Charlie." Eliza went to Maggie, well aware that she wasn't sleeping. She hugged her and smoothed hair out of her eyes gently. She knew she had spoken about her in a dismissive way, and her sister was blind, not stupid.

"Well, you stay here a little longer, and I will look for Clara," Charles said, realising he could investigate the entire pueblo as well. If he didn't find his sister he could prevent the bandits from stealing his other sisters, by getting their money.

Eliza didn't say anything, instead she lay down with Maggie, trying to keep herself and her sister warm. Losing their fire was a problem that would not end well.

Zzz

He crept down the mountain, keeping to the shadows and the safest path he could find. He didn't want the bandits knowing where he had left his sisters. Not with their threats and crass humour. He would head to town and find the alcalde's office and see what there was to see. He wrapped his scarf tightly around him, shivering with cold.

He didn't see Diego and Victoria in the cart, travelling the rough road. He was trying not to be seen and tracked, so he took the long way around, avoiding the road altogether.

Zzz

Diego had heard a scrabble of rocks, of pebbles tumbling from dislodged from their resting places. A creature native to the landscape or a human, small or otherwise he could not decide. The sounds made him uneasy and on guard, taking his attention from Victoria.

"I have been trying to talk to you for five minutes, Diego."

"What? What's that? You have to excuse me, Victoria. I thought I heard something."

Victoria sighed, although Diego didn't notice. What with the glint of reflected light and now the skittering of stones, he was more certain than ever that they weren't alone.

Victoria startled next to him, and he turned his attention back to her.

"It's starting to rain, and it's freezing. The children will freeze out here."

"We'll freeze if we do nothing," Diego said, thinking quickly. They didn't have much of a choice. They couldn't stay out here in the elements, regardless of the lack of chaperones. They had to take shelter and quickly.

There was a small cave at the foot of the mountain, and it would hold the cart and the horses, as well as them. He hoped the rain would stop soon, or that they would chance upon the children. It would give him something else to think about rather than his obsession with Victoria - and the incessant questions that seemed to spill out of her whenever they were together.

Diego gently took the reins from Victoria and sent the horses swiftly towards where the cave was. It was still there, a little smaller than he remembered, but the cart and the horses fit inside. A bit snug but it wouldn't do for the horses to get too cold either. If they could keep the tinder and firewood he had packed dry they could rely on it to burn for a while.

"It was lucky you remembered the cave here," Victoria said, glancing around. It was dry and warm, and as if on cue, the rain fell harder where they had been moments before.

"Hopefully it will stop before nightfall."

"What can we do about the children?" Victoria said with concern. "They are still out there, somewhere."

"The cave must be well hidden and out of the way," Diego said. He wondered if the glint of light and the falling pebbles had been caused by the children. Maybe, maybe not.

Victoria had found the wood and was setting up a fire just near the cave entrance. The blankets she had packed for the children would be useful for Diego and herself now, especially if they were trapped here overnight. Diego was busy thinking about something again, she could always tell. His eyes would become darker, more serious and slightly chilling. Not the usual kind hearted gaze of her friend.

Zzz

The bandit leader was sitting in his own cave, with his band of cutthroats. He had seen the cart with the pueblo's innkeeper and knew where the pair had taken shelter. He debated whether to seek them out or not, the chilling rain making him hesitate. He wondered how long it would take for the stupid kid to be arrested and hung for trying to steal the alcalde's gold, or if little Charlie even had the guts to try.

There was a demand for young girls, and such fine young ladies would be a prize worth the effort. Women did not always wish to travel into the wilderness, and brides could be scarce. There were always other avenues such as saloons and other establishments. So far his men had yet to find where Charlie had hidden his family, but it was only a matter of time. He was no more than a child himself. What child could outwit him? No child had as yet, and he would wager that Charlie would not be the first.

He resigned himself to waiting for the rain to stop, and then perhaps going after the pair of well-dressed travellers sheltering across from their hideout.

Zzz

A man raised his eyeglass again to scan the landscape. He was aware of the bandits' location, and he had also seen Victoria and Diego shelter in the lower cave. He had a fair idea where the children had hidden themselves but made no move towards them as yet. He was keeping an eye on the bandits while resting and waiting for possible threats to the children.

He was dressed in a creamy white, shirt and trousers, hat and cape, all the better to merge with the snow on the mountains. He was aware of how he had almost assumed the identity of the pueblo's missing hero, but in white, and he had considered the costume in full. He had thrown out the idea due to its theatricality. He was a soldier, not an actor, no matter how strategic the disguise.


	11. Chapter 11

The man in white contemplated the view. With the rain falling this way, there was really no point in trying to see what was going on. The misty veil was annoying. It meant that he may as well wear the oilskin cloak and go investigate in person. Perhaps now it was time to introduce himself to the little girls, and at least put them under his protection. He felt Charles might be a task far too complicated to deal with, not without a serious strategy behind him.

He had never met the children, so they might react with fear. Charles was unpredictable given his age and the fact that he seemed to be trying to take care of them all without going to a trustworthy adult. He didn't want to hurt the boy, but Charles might not have the same concerns for his safety.

He had a few spare oilskins and could offer them to the sheltering couple below him, but he was sure they were warm and dry, able to take care of themselves. He smiled a little. They may not even welcome the intrusion.

He would have to be careful. The rocks were now slippery and the fall was steep. A foot wrong, and there would be problems, even if he didn't fall to his death. The water might soon turn to ice, but it seemed warmer than it really should be.

He flung the oilskin over the white cape, aware that as he did so the camouflage was lessened dramatically, and he stood out against the white of the snow. He doubted anyone would care to be out in the open with the rain teeming down, but it still made him wary. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and breathed.

Zzz

Diego was pacing the floor of the cave, while Victoria decided to make coffee for them both. The little fire was cheerful and bright, but would only last so long before new fuel would be needed. As the coffee brewed it filled the cave with a comforting aroma.

"We can't do anything until the rain calms down, Diego. There really is no point in getting so worked up."

"I know, I know. Those children could be freezing - as you yourself said."

"I said that because I thought the rain wouldn't last long. We haven't had much rain this year."

"With our luck, it will be a year's worth of rain in a week."

"There is nothing we can do. Even Zorro could do nothing in the rain, not like this rain."

"I'm sure he would have worked something out."

"What could he do that we couldn't?"

"Well, there are oil skin cloaks and great coats, they keep people from getting too wet. They are almost waterproof. I think Zorro would have one of those…"

"Like the coach driver?"

"Exactly. I wish we had a couple right now, or even one."

"What could you do? You sense of balance is legendary - everyone knows you have none. You could fall, and visibility is pretty bad out there. I don't think Zorro has really got the eyes of a real fox, and not even he could do anything. If he couldn't, why do you think you can?"

Diego could only agree with her and silently hung his head for a moment. He hated to feel trapped. Even in a cave with the woman he loved. Especially with the woman he loved.

"It's a meaningless debate. Zorro has disappeared. Talking about what he is and is not capable of is a useless exercise."

Victoria was silenced by that, and he knew he shouldn't have mentioned it. She concentrated on pouring coffee into mugs, and Diego tried to ignore the way her hand shook. It wasn't with the cold. She turned aside to gaze out the cave entrance, holding her mug. He had to fetch his own full mug. A tear slid down her cheek. Diego felt like a cad.

He sat on a rock near the entrance, peering out at the misty landscape. There was no visibility, he couldn't see much at all. If there were any threats out there, he had no way to see them. Hopefully, any threats would have the same problem.

He bent to take his mug and thought about what he could say. Was he just hurting her to keep her away from her questions? He felt very selfish and stupid.

"Tell me about Zorro. You know the best, I should think."

"You don't even like Zorro."

"Of course I like Zorro," Diego protested. "He's saved you and my father numerous times. He tries to help the pueblo and get justice for the poor."

"You are always saying horrible things about him," Victoria said with a sniff. "It's almost as if you were jealous of him."

Diego kept his mouth shut, although things were fighting to be said. She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced at the quality.

"Do you need sugar?" Diego said. She turned and glared at him.

"You want to talk about Zorro? Sugar is beside the point. Don't change the subject all the time!"

Diego frowned. He wanted to help but this problem was building up between them like a monster. Of his own making. Only he could fix this. A shudder of apprehension went through him, an icy breeze touching his heart. Was fear to overcome him completely? Turning him into a true coward?

"Well, Victoria. Talk to me about Zorro. I promise I will listen. You want to know who he was, or is? We can work together," Diego said. "Just talk, and I will just listen."

Part of his brain screamed at him to just tell her. Just to hold her in his arms and whisper the secret into her ear, and take what was coming to him. Playing more games would only get him further in trouble. But he couldn't. He wasn't even sure if they were still friends.

He handed her his fresh handkerchief and waited for her to completely compose herself.

"You are always so patient with me, Diego. And I am so horrible to you."

"That isn't true, Victoria. You are one of my closest friends. Sometimes I need to be put in my place, just like anyone else."

She smiled. "I didn't mean all the things I said. I'm not used to you being so negative."

"I'm sorry. Still grieving I suppose. I will make an effort to be better. If you will help me?"

She patted him on the arm and went to the cart. "I keep a notepad and pencil in a bag. So I can write things down. Helps me to remember things."

Diego nodded. Victoria sat on a rock opposite him and opened the notebook. She took the pencil in her hand and waited and thought.

"Do you think if I asked questions your thoughts would be clearer?" Diego said, after a moment.

"That might be useful," Victoria said. "You are the smartest person in the pueblo. That is something people don't notice enough of the time."

"Thank you. I don't think it's given me any favours, but thank you all the same." He finally smiled.

"Well, now. What do you think he looks like, Diego?"

"Well, what colour are his eyes and hair? That might be a good place to start?" He turned so that she couldn't see his eyes, but she wasn't paying him any attention.

"I think his eyes must be hazel. They change colours sometimes."

"Maybe there are two men?"

Victoria shook her head. "I would know if there were two. There is only one man."

"Write down that, hazel eyes. Green to blue, or blue to brown?"

"I don't know. Darker than green, I think. Blue to brown?"

She scribbled it down. Diego watched her silently until she was finished.

"How tall do you think he is?" Diego said, slouching a little as he spoke. He didn't want to make her suspicious by changing his posture, but again she wasn't aware of what he was doing. Diego sighed and sat up properly. She would never see him as Zorro anyway. He would have to tell her outright one day. Just not today.

"Well, maybe…? Can you stand up for me?"

"Why?"

"Come over here, and put your hands around my waist," she said. "I can estimate whether he is taller or shorter than you."

He reluctantly did as he was told, aware that his heart beat louder and faster as he did so. Maybe she already knew? She'd know if he couldn't control himself. He knew he was blushing, the heat in his cheeks let him know that.

"Like this?" He asked, clumsily touching her waist. She was warm and inviting, but she wasn't really his, he reminded himself. She glanced up at him, her eyes scanning his face.

"I think he is...taller?" Victoria said, dropping her eyes, and removing Diego's hands.

"How much taller could he be?" The words came unthinking to Diego's lips. "I'm the tallest man in the pueblo."

"So you think he is from the pueblo?"

Diego startled and laughed. "That was quite clever."

"I thought so," Victoria said with a smile. "Saved another question."

Diego hadn't moved, but he had let her remove his hands. He stood so close to Victoria, his eyes on her face, lingering on her lips thoughtfully.

She launched herself at him, just like she had in the de la Vega garden. Her lips found his, and it took a moment before his brain could factor in whether this was a threat or something else entirely. His body reacted differently than it had to her first kiss so long ago. It responded immediately and automatically by intensifying the kiss and embracing her fiercely.

"Yes...you kiss...just like him…" She said when they stopped for a breath. "Diego, is there something you have forgotten to tell me?"

There was a gunshot just outside the cave, and Diego went immediately to investigate. He welcomed the distraction in some ways and in other not so much. There was danger out there in the mist, but where?

Victoria had jumped with surprise when she had heard the gunshot, and shrunk a little into the shadows. It was an instinctive impulse, as she wasn't afraid. She looked at Diego, and she looked with different eyes than she had only this morning. She saw the tense muscles in his shoulders, and his clenched jaw and wondered why she had never thought to notice. His right hand clenched into a fist where Zorro's sword normally hung at his side.

He hadn't brought his sword today, she realised with a shiver. They didn't carry any weapons in the cart, and this danger was unknown and hidden out there in the rain. Who was being shot at? Who was doing the shooting? Were they in danger?

Diego crept closer to the entrance, intent to see more if he could. The mist was easing a little. He saw a figure in an oilskin for a brief moment against the snow, but it had vanished in the blink of an eye. He wasn't sure if the figure was even real, or he had seen what his brain was telling him was out there. It was higher up the mountain on the opposite side, and it seemed to be only aware of its own threats. The gunshots were directed up there. They were safe for the moment.


	12. Chapter 12

Another shot rang out, a far bit closer to their cave. Diego instinctively took a step forward, and Victoria grabbed his arm.

"Maybe I was mistaken in thinking you were Zorro," she whispered. "What do you think you're doing?"

Diego gently removed her hand. "Maybe you were mistaken."

"Zorro wouldn't just wander out there without weapons, in the middle of the fog. He'd have a plan."

Diego sighed. He wasn't sure he wanted her to know for sure that he was Zorro, but the total dismissal of the possibility always hurt. Especially when she voiced her doubts.

"Why do we even need to go out there?"

"I wasn't thinking of us both out there, Victoria. You would stay here," he said. Victoria folded her arms, and defiance flashed in her eyes.

"If you go out, so will I."

"I'm not planning on climbing the mountain. I just want to know how far the gun battle is. We could be in danger."

Victoria glared at him. Diego bit his lip in frustration, determined to keep the words he wanted so much to say from spilling out.

"I don't want you to catch a chill. I want you safe," he said eventually.

"Do you think I want you to catch a chill, Diego? Do you think I want someone to shoot you?"

Far enough, Diego thought. He wished the rain would make up its mind, either pour or stop...even snow would be better than this.

"I am good at moving in the mountains, I have grown up playing in the hills. I have an adversion to being shot, I tend to avoid it generally."

"You are going whatever I say?"

He met her eyes, which had softened somewhat. "Yes." She glanced away in disappointment.

"Please stay here, Victoria. I promise I will be careful." He smiled, as he reached out for her hand. It was cold and trembling slightly, whether from the temperature or from unspoken fear.

"I can't stop you. But, if Zorro is really dead, you won't have anyone to save you."

Diego nodded. Resignation and resentment were evident in her words, and so was her fear.

"Promise you will stay here and wait for me. I won't be long. I am not going that far."

She stared at him for a moment, and he thought he might not get his promise. He knew she would keep a promise, if she made one at all, so he waited.

"I promise."

"Thank you," he breathed. It was a relief. He couldn't think of her safety as well as his own.

"I promise I won't leave unless you fail to return in an hour."

"Victoria…"

"I mean it, you could get shot and need help. You could fall and break a leg. Your balance isn't great, in general."

"Alright. I promise I will be back in under an hour, Victoria." Diego wasn't sure how they could syncronise anything given that his pocket watch was the only timepiece. He tossed it to her, confident that he could estimate the passing of an hour, and besides he wasn't going too far. He was certain he would be back safely in an hour.

The stranger in the oilskin had ducked behind a rock, but not before one of the lookout bandits had spotted the movement. A gunshot had missed him by inches, and once he took shelter, he answered the gunshot with one of his own. The bandit fell without another sound, but the gunshot echoed in the mist.

He had slipped up a little, alerting everyone in earshot of his presence. He had overestimated his experience and underestimated the bandits. They were beginning to be more than a slight nuisance. The bandit had chosen to shoot at moving figures in the mist, not aware of who or what he was. That suggested that the bandits were more than a little on edge. His quick mind factored them in more solidly as he considered their level of threat.

Did the bandits know the territory well? What were their main goals? Were they mainly robbers or did they have deeper plans? He needed to take more care.

He noticed a shape moving below him. Maybe the man from the sheltering couple? He kept his position hidden, and the shape dissolved into the mist. Maybe he had imagined the figure? Maybe it had been an animal of some kind? For the hundredth time, he cursed the weather and the mist, knowing that he was seriously hampered.


	13. Chapter 13

Diego kept his head down and kept to the shadows and the curves of the mountain. As a child he had climbed as many craggy areas as possible, as a personal challenge. It was a little harder and much more uncomfortable in the mist, but his climb was rapid and although the rocks were slick, his steps were sure.

He had glimpsed a shape in the mist, but it had faded just as fast. He wasn't sure where the shots were coming from but they were close, and he kept as close to shelter as he could. It wouldn't do for him to get wounded by a stray shot. He wondered about the figure in the mist, but that was put to the back of his mind as he concentrated on the climb.

He was unarmed, and as far as he was concerned it was a fact finding mission. Who was shooting and why? If he came across where the children were hiding all the better. He had to act quickly and get back down to Victoria before she got impatient and came looking for him.

"Damn it," came a muttered oath from very close by. Diego startled a little, unaware that someone was so close.

"Are you alright?" Diego said, noting an edge of pain in the man's voice. The man shifted quickly, and a few scenarios flickered through Diego's head.

"Wait, don't shoot," he whispered, aware that his voice would travel in the mist.

"I'm not an idiot, senor. I don't let off shots unless I can see what I am shooting at," came the reply.

"My apologies," Diego said with a slight frown. "I'm Diego. What's going on?"

"Alonso," the man said almost reluctantly. "I have been tracking bandits all the way from San Francisco. I suspect that they killed my friends."

"Bandits?"

"Yes, bandits."

In Diego's experience bandits didn't usually travel far from home. He wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

"Are you injured?"

"Just a scratch, nothing really," Alonso admitted crossly. He moved a little and the men could see each other. It was like looking in a mirror, and they reacted identically.

Eyes widened, mouths opened. Silence.

"You aren't even armed," Alonso said, breaking the silence. "What possessed you to come up towards the sound of gunshots?"

"Curiosity."

"Well you know what they say about curiosity."

"We need to retreat to a safe location, and see to that wound. How old is it?"

Alonso considered him carefully. "Just now."

"Any others from earlier in the week?"

"I'm not a complete fool."

Diego ignored him for a moment, and considered the way down. It would be more difficult going down with an injured man, with the slick rocks. Alonso wasn't familiar with the terrain. Pain would make him vulnerable to falls and slips.

"Can you walk?"

"It's a flesh wound in the shoulder. I will be fine."

"Well, I am taking you home so I can arm myself and you can tell me what is going on," Diego said firmly. This man was more identical to him than his own twin brother, and it unnerved him.

Alonso glared at him for a few moments, and then sighed.

"Alright, then. I admit that you may be right. Have you got anything to bandage this?"

Diego considered the wound, and the blood flow. Not excessive, but this was a little worse than Alonso was portraying.

"In the cavern, I will be able to see to it." Do you think you can manage the climb down? The question hung on the tip of his tongue, but he considered how he would react to a stranger questioning his ability and didn't say it.

Alonso nodded, and considered the path Diego had travelled to climb up.

"It's always best not to look down. Eye level is best," Diego said. He regretted the fact that there was no rope to descend, knowing it would have been a lot faster, and maybe a little safer.

"I have climbed up and down mountains before, here and throughout the world. I have a camp site close by. I'll grab a few supplies and show you a different way down."

Diego's eyebrows rose and he nodded. Alonso seemed to be more capable than he had first appeared.


	14. Chapter 14

The scramble down and across to the camp site was awkward but otherwise uneventful. If one of them slipped even a little, the other offered a hand to steady them.

Alonso looked a little drained as he rested for a moment near his tent, unwilling to admit to the dull ache that seemed to spread from the gash on his shoulder to the rest of him. He needed to rest, but the children were so vulnerable and a week of running from their parents' murderers would have taxed their strength, and probably the trauma was devestating for them.

He didn't know how much they had seen on that day, but he had seen the bloodshed. William, one of his close friends wasn't one of the bodies, so Alonso was confident that the man had rescued the children. He tried to shut out the memories by shutting his eyes, and his balance wobbled dramatically. He put out a hand to steady himself, and found himself steadied by Diego.

"Do you have any bandages in your supplies?" Diego was saying. Alonso opened his eyes with more difficulty than he would like, and nodded.

Whoever this man was, he was confident in himself, Alonso thought. He frowned. He wondered why they looked so alike, and what it meant. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He was tired. He hadn't really slept since he left San Francisco, always being on the move, always thinking of the children. He had been training for this type of mission for many years, but he never realised it would involve his friends...and family. No, he couldn't think about that, he had to focus on the children. They needed him.

Diego was rifling through his belongings, and he didn't care. It would have made him irritable and defensive any other time, but he really didn't care right then.

Diego was talking to him again, and he struggled to follow his words.

"Sit down, Alonso. Let me look at it." Diego helped him sit on the rock that had been a handy seat for the past two days.

Alonso flinched with the shock of cold that hit with the tiniest movement of his sleeve. Diego teared it a little to get a better look at the wound, and then wrapped it expertly with one of the strips of ripped cotton that he had packed as bandages.

"Have you got any blankets?"

Alonso nodded, feeling a little more drowsy than he liked. He was finding it hard to concentrate, and he vaguely thought that this interfering stranger had a lot to do with it. He was handling himself well before he met Diego. He wasn't sure he liked him, but he couldn't explain how he was interfering or distracting.

Alonso just knew he was so tired, enough to just lie down and sleep right there, regardless of the snow. Diego gave him a worried glance, and gathered the blankets together.

"Right," he said. "Show me this track down, and we can get you somewhere warmer than here."

Alonso turned to glance at the way down, and attempted to stand. Diego swiftly grabbed him under the uninjured shoulder, to prevent him falling.

"This is going to be difficult," Diego said, grimly, as he shifted the blankets to his other shoulder to accommodate the injured man. "No. Don't close your eyes. I need you awake and walking. Alonso!"

Victoria had begun to pace the cavern, making the horse nearby snort with surprise. The pocket watch was open in her hand, and warm to the touch. It had seemed hours since Diego had left, but the watch reminded her it was only half an hour. Time was going so slowly, and she ached to know if he was alright.

Part of her thought she was crazy to let him go out there, but she knew she had no way of stopping him. Not really. Normally he was passive enough to go allow with her, but not today. He seemed unlike himself, and she was vaguely worried. Something still nagged at the back of her mind that there were many questions she should ask him, and that kiss… Maybe she was a harlot? Maybe he thought she was a harlot, throwing herself at him like that - without even a warning. Diego had always been one of her closest friends, but after this, maybe she would see less of him.

And she had thought he was Zorro. He hadn't denied it, and he had been so unsettled afterwards. But the gunshots would have unsettled anyone. She sighed and rubbed her arms for a bit of extra warmth. The thick shawl was just not warm enough with the change in the weather. She wished she was back in her tavern, near her cooking stove, busy and surrounded by the cheerful noise of customers in the background. The howl of the wind was almost unnerving, sounding almost like a creature out for blood, trying to get her. And she was so alone.


	15. Chapter 15

Diego had managed to shake his doppelganger awake and true to his prediction it was a difficult descent. The path that Alonso had travelled was a lot easier than the direct path that Diego had climbed. At times Alonso did pass out, and full body weight of a six foot plus man of seemingly solid muscle was a struggle to shift.

It was just under his promised hour when he stumbled through the cavern opening, almost falling against the worried woman who had waited so patiently for him. He had been mildly surprised that she had kept such a difficult promise. Not that he doubted her word, not in the least, but he had realised the difficulty of waiting.

"Diego!" Her attention was drawn to Alonso of course, not him. He chuckled despite himself, and she glanced at him with annoyance.

"What? Why does he look so much like you? Which one of you is Diego?"

Alonso opened his eyes with difficulty, and gazed unseeing at her for a moment, and then turned to Diego, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Help me with him. We need to get him to the hacienda. It is the closest and safest place, I think."

Victoria took a side and together they helped Alonso to the cart. Diego eased him out of the oilskin, and draped it over the side of the cart. It had done a good job of keeping Alonso dry. It was good quality and seemed quite warm.

Diego spread out the blankets he had brought down, and Victoria tucked some of the ones they had brought for the children around him. She glanced at Diego with concern, aware of the blood on his jacket. She reached out a hesitant hand as if to touch him.

Diego followed her gaze and shrugged. "Not my blood, Victoria."

"I am not going anywhere without the children," Alonso said, slowly gathering his thoughts. Diego gently pushed him back down when he tried to sit, and rearranged the blankets Alonso had flung back in frustration. "They are defenseless and I swore I would find them. I promised…"

"They have lasted this long," Diego said with irritation. He had wanted to find the children and had underestimated the difficulty, disregarding the possibilities of the weather worsening. "A couple of hours won't make much difference." He was just as frustrated as his double. It should have been a simple enough errand.

"I promised…" Alonso protested, and passed out again.

Diego frowned. He was tired, and muscles were aching from the walk down the mountain. This man was obviously some long lost relative of some kind, and he decided that any more surprises in the family tree would not be to his liking. Especially ones that looked like a mirror image of himself.

Victoria glanced from one man to the other. She had automatically assumed the injured man was Diego. The true Diego was beginning to seem more like a stranger. This capable, obviously strong man was so unlike what she was used to. Just how heavy was the other man? Diego looked pensive and irritated, so she was reluctant to ask questions.

She handed him back his pocket watch, after touching his arm in a weak gesture of reassurance. His face cleared and he managed a small smile. He took it from her, savoured the warmth of the metal against his skin, and placed it carefully in his pocket.

"I'm sorry that this got so complicated Victoria. We were talking like old times, and well…"

I had to go and ruin it, Victoria thought. She should never have kissed him like such a forward madam. What had gotten into her?

Why is the universe so against us being together, Diego thought. He thought of the kiss, and smiled reluctantly. Victoria was hot and fiery and such an ardent kisser. She had kissed him as if she was kissing Zorro. He sighed, and turned back to the stranger in the cart. He was too tired to care what it meant, and there were other things to think about, as usual.

"Do you want to drive the cart, or shall I?" Victoria asked, if only to break the strange silence that had fallen over them. "I can nurse him. I used to enough times with my brothers."

"Whatever is best for you," Diego said, wanting her to be comfortable but sounding a little dismissive. He frowned, noticing Victoria's growing discomfort. "I mean, whatever is more comfortable for you. It might be warmer with Alonso."

"I'll sit with Alonso, and the blankets," she said. "What about you? You have never been strong, getting so sick all the time."

"I can wear Alonso's oil skin, and be perfectly fine, Victoria. There is no need to worry about me."

He tried to keep his voice cheerful and gentle, but even he could hear it come out sharp and irritated. Victoria paled, and nodded, biting her lip.

Diego wanted to apologise, but he wasn't sure what to say. Instead he climbed up into the driver's seat and grabbed the reins, and then realised he should have helped Victoria climb into the cart. Or at least offered to. He couldn't do much right at the moment.


	16. Chapter 16

Charles wrapped his arms around himself as he struggled through rain and mist that was threatening to turn into sleet. His thoughts were wild and he cursed himself for being so weak and stupid. He wasn't that stupid, but he knew he had made many mistakes.

He had taken a wrong turn, finding an image of a large hacienda forming through the mist. He had wanted to get to the town and steal that money that the bandits wanted. That would end it. His sisters would be safe, and they would work out what to do next...somehow. They were not going to be put in any orphanage, or workhouse, he would make sure of it. He just wasn't sure how to yet. His sisters were definitely not going anywhere the bandits wanted to take them. He didn't know what they planned, he just knew it was bad. Slavery had no good sides. Warmth, shelter and food were not worth the indignity and the cruelty of the life that slavery promised.

He paused, staring at the gates to the whitewashed building. Should he go and ask for help? It was freezing, and he was freezing. Maybe they could take him as some sort of worker? Did they hire 14 year old boys that they didn't know? Or did they just send them to the orphanage or worse?

Should he just turn away and try again for the town? He glanced down the road, and back at the gates. He would collapse from the cold before he got half way there, he realised. The only way forward was through the gates, into the grounds of the hacienda. Should he hide in the stables? Was he bold enough to knock on the door? He was slowly realising that this hacienda was the one he had been sent to rob, and shuddered. Had he killed that man? He hoped...he prayed he hadn't. Maybe it wasn't even the same hacienda? Maybe no one was at home, just the servants or whatever?

The stables...he could imagine the warmth and the hay and the shelter that horses enjoyed. There were blankets for the horses in his father's stables, maybe there were blankets here?

He ran quickly to the doors of the stables and breathed in the familiar smell of mustiness and horses. They were kept very clean, for stables, he thought. He slipped through the main area, taking note of several grooms who drank coffee and chatted at a nearby table. It was easy enough to get past them, and, finding a ladder, he climbed up into the loft.

Lying on his back, he gazed at the roof for a moment. It was warm, and although the straw was scratchy it was so much better than walking through such rough weather. He could walk to town in the morning, he reasoned, ignoring the ache in his stomach. He felt his heart slowing down from the anxiety of his walk, and closing his eyes, he felt himself drift off to sleep.

zzz

Diego glanced back at his passengers and then stared back out into the worsening weather. If he gave Victoria's horse its head, it would return to the plaza and its home stable in the tavern. A long trip, and he knew the de la Vega hacienda was closer. If the weather just held a little longer, he could pick his way through the mist and get them all safely home.

He sighed, and removed his oilskin, draping it over Victoria's shoulders so that it covered both her and Alonso. It was freezing, and going to get colder. He urged the horse into a fast canter, but held back from a true gallop, as it would exhaust the horse before it arrived at the hacienda.

Diego wished he had his wide-brimmed hat to keep the rain off his face, trusting the ruts in the track to keep the cart on the road more than his skill with the driving.

"Diego," Victoria said over the wind. "You need this, we are alright back here."

"Keep it. The blankets are probably soaked through."

Victoria was silenced, and Diego frowned.

"I'm sorry. I am snapping at you. I apologise."

"It doesn't matter, Diego."

Yes, it damn well does, Diego thought. His plans for this day were all messed up and the woman he loved was being punished for it. She deserved so much better. He needed to remember that. Over all else, she needed his love and kindness. Especially as he had hurt her so much.

"We'll be home soon," he said. "Nice and warm, and safe."

"Yes," she said. "You are such a good driver. How do you see anything in this fog?"

He pretended he couldn't hear her, unsure of how to respond to a rare compliment.

"Posy likes you."

Diego smiled at the name. So Posy was their trusty steed? She was a fine mare and doing well despite the conditions. He had to turn her head away from her chosen path only once, and keeping to the main road he could almost sense his way home. He knew the timing of when to expect turns, and Posy had obviously been to the hacienda before, as she was fully cooperative.

"Diego, why don't you show this side of yourself more often?" Victoria said, raising her voice to be heard.

Diego closed his eyes for a moment, and pretended he didn't hear her. She sighed and retreated to silence. Why didn't he show this side of himself? He did and had as Zorro, but it wouldn't do for her to guess what he had been doing. She almost had, and hopefully had given up on the idea. The faster he could go back to being the bookworm science scholar, the better.


	17. Chapter 17

Anxious farm hands greeted Diego and his passengers as he arrived at the hacienda. They had been watching for him for a while, with the warm glow of lanterns shining through the mist.

The head man had called Alejandro outside, and all attention was drawn to the man in the back of the cart. Somehow they had looked past the figure in the driver's seat and had mistaken Alonso for Diego.

Victoria had drifted into a heavy doze and was helped into the hacienda, and then the men assisted Alonso. Diego stood back with a bemused stare at the commotion he had caused.

"Senor you will be well rewarded for your courage today," Alejandro said, his voice shaking a little from worry.

"Father, it is me. Diego."

Alejandro's eyes opened wide, taking in his dripping wet son scanning him from head to toe, almost unable to believe his eyes.

"Diego? But you can't be...who is that with Victoria?"

"Believe me, I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him, it was like looking in a mirror."

Alejandro grasped his son's arm, as if needing to feel his solid form.

"No mirror image here, you are as real as he is," Alejandro said, shakily. "I'm not seeing an apparition…"

Diego placed a steadying hand over his father's. "I'm no ghost," he assured him. "And he's not dead. At least, I don't think so."

"How bad is that wound?" Alejandro said, leading Diego into the hacienda. The warmth was comforting and just being out of the wind and sleet was enough to feel more human.

"It shouldn't be causing this reaction. It was little more than a graze. Just a gash from a ricochet passing over and hitting the rock next to him. A chip may have embedded itself in his skin, but I didn't see it when I bandaged it."

"He looked drained of colour. Perhaps the cold was too much for him?"

"He was on the verge of collapse the whole time. Exhaustion?"

"Perhaps."

A servant rushed to help Diego off with his soaked jacket, and replace it with a dry one. Diego shivered a little, as his body adjusted to the change of temperature. He had never been so glad to see the inside of his home in his life.

Alejandro poured his son a medium brandy and made him drink it while he watched.

"Sit down before you fall down," Alejandro said, indicating the chair near the fireplace.

"I've been sitting for hours. At least it seems like it. What a terrible idea to go out in such changeable weather, I should have known better," Diego said, shaking his head. "What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking of three innocent children braving those same weather conditions and the dangers that the bandits presented. I would have done the same at your age." Alejandro paused and his eyes ran over his still standing son.

Blood smears covered every item of Diego's clothing, and grime and slush covered his fine boots that were not designed for such treatment. He seemed exhausted, and the frown on his son's face reflected the frustrations of the day.

"It was my fault, I should have cautioned care." Alejandro's voice sounded strange to his own ears, wondering when the last time he cautioned Diego about his own safety. Normally his son was taking too much care of himself. Normally Diego was not doing anything at all dramatic, his son had been tightly controlled for a long time. Why hadn't he seen that before?

"I am a grown man, father," Diego said with a touch of annoyance. He sat heavily in the chair, nursing the second brandy that his father had poured after the first. "I should be able to take care of myself."

"That's not what I meant." Alejandro said with a frown. Diego should have known that, it should have been obvious. There was an edge to Diego's voice that spoke of more than today's frustrations. A world weariness had settled on his son. It was something he hadn't expected.

Diego had so many interests to keep himself amused, he was always active with his scholarly pursuits - drawing in the hills, studying birds somewhere inaccessible, teaching the local indian village in their tepees. Never around when he was called, always busy. That or lying in bed with a cold or hayfever or whatever was going around.

Alejandro had always thought his son was weak, but how had he kept up that level of busyness? It was undermining his strength, and that was why he was always ill. He'd have to have a word with his son, when he was in a better mood.

"I made sure that….that…"

"His name is Alonso."

Alonso. He looked like Alonso, his dead brother, almost identical. And the name… He shuddered. The last time he had looked at his brother, Alonso, he had been that pale, that drained of energy. Killed outright by a traitor in the midst.

Diego glanced up at his father, aware that the silence was dragging on. "He's not a ghost, father. He was very heavy when I helped him down the mountain, and ghosts are meant to be insubstantial."

"Alright," Alejandro said and took a deep breath. If the situation got further complicated, he would go completely mad. "What is the explanation for the similarities between Alonso and yourself?"

Diego shrugged. He stared into the dancing flames for a moment, savouring the warmth of the fire. "I have no idea."

"What was he doing in the mountains in these conditions?"

"He was trying to find the children as well. He has some sort of connection to the children or to the family or something. Bandits were shooting at him, and he said he had been tracking them from San Francisco."

"Bandits? Highly unlikely. From what Clara has been saying there was some incident at the house where her parents were killed, and they had been rescued by their uncle. Is he their uncle?"

"The flesh wound was new, and Clara was saying their uncle had been bundled up and been sick for a while. If he is an uncle, he isn't the one that helped them escape the house."

Victoria woke in the warm de la Vega guest room, and decided she needed to know what was happening in the hacienda. She had dozed off with the rhythm of the cart's movement, warm and safe under the oilskin that Diego had given her. It had been taken from her, but it had been a comfort in the misty weather.

It had smelled of him, of his body, and although slightly sweaty, it was a nice smell. Soapiness and warmth, she had snuggled down inside it, with Alonso so still. A hand over his chest had assured her that he was breathing deeply, and evenly, without strain. Obviously he was very tired, but the wound was minor. The bandage had contained the bleeding completely, so that there was little to fear from the wound.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, aware that she was still dressed in her underclothes, the wet things had been removed. She could hardly present herself like that to the men of the household. But she didn't want to wait until morning to know what was going on.

Going to the wardrobe in the corner of the room to search for clothes hadn't felt intrusive until she saw the dresses inside. She stepped back, chewing on her bottom lip with concern.

She knew whose dresses they were. They could be no one else's except Donna Elena's, Diego's mother. They were very fine and well preserved for their age. They seemed to be her size, but should she dress in any? The idea seemed outrageous in the extreme. She raised a hand to caress the silks and satins, and then dropped it before touching them. She had no right to wear such clothes.

She would have to wait until morning, when her clothes would be returned to her. They would be currently spread before a fire, drying thoroughly. She hugged herself, and decided to go back to bed. The covers were toasty and warm.


	18. Chapter 18

Victoria slept soundly until the next morning after she went back to bed. The sunlight on her face woke her, and she startled. Where was she? This wasn't her bed. Realisation of the previous day's events slowly came to mind, and she lay back down, and pulled the quilt around her for a moment. The de la Vegas had such thick blankets and everything was so comfortable, she would be sorry to get up.

Curiosity got the better of her, as she wondered what had happened after she drifted off. She glanced around the room, noting the open curtains, the dry and unwrinkled clothes from yesterday, and fresh water in the wash basin. She got up and tiptoed to the stand, dipping her finger into the water. Still warm, and a nice thick washcloth sat to the side of the bowl with a small cake of soap.

A enthusiastic but still quite small fire blazed in the small fireplace. She could get herself presentable, and wash away some of the grime of the last couple of days. She picked up the small cake of soap, and turned it over in her hands. It was a rich red colour, and smelled of flowers when she sniffed at it with curiosity. Not just flowers, roses.

She washed arms, legs, hands and face, drying herself quickly by the fire, and dressed as quickly as she could. She had missed dinner the previous night, and breakfast would have come and gone by now. Her stomach growled at her, but she could wait if she needed to.

She sat for a moment to brush her hair, sitting at the small dressing table. Everything was so new, so feminine. Who had they been bought for? There was no musty or aged smell to anything this morning. Elena's clothes were in the closet, she had not mistaken that. But nothing else would have been Elena's. The brush had never been used before, she could swear it. No one else had used the soap before her. It wasn't from Elena's time.

Who was it for? She didn't come that often that it would have been for her use. Overnight visits were few and far between especially as she grew into a woman, it was not done to be unchaperoned in a man's home without a wife as hostess. She had never considered her reputation to be at stake before. Alejandro was like a father to her, and any infatuation in that quarter was laughable.

Diego… She would have said he was like a brother to her, and he was… An infatuation was less laughable and more serious. Could he be more than a brother? She wondered if she had imagined that skip of her heart all those years before, when he first returned home. He had looked so handsome and there had been something in his eyes. She wondered if his heart had skipped as well, because his eyes had met hers with so much heat that she could have melted away. How had she forgotten that moment? She had put it to the back of her mind, tried to forget it, but it still came unbidden to her mind whenever she considered if Diego could be more than a brother. That was the answer, Diego would easily be more than a brother to her. If he was that way inclined. Was she interested in Diego - as more than a friend? Is that why she had kissed him in the cavern, hoping he was Zorro? As if he was Zorro?

Her hands went to her heated cheeks , and she glanced at her reflection. She had gone pink with...what? Was she embarrassed? Was she ashamed? Goodness she needed to think of something else, before she did something else improper. She might have to avoid her friend for a while. Her kitchen would be missing her.

zzzz

Diego was pacing the floor outside the guest room where Alonso was being examined by Dr Hernandez. Alejandro watched his son, noting his impatience, so unlike his normal demeanor.

The door opened and Diego pounced on the doctor.

"That young man is lucky to be alive."

"Was the wound worse than first thought?"

"He is completely exhausted, and half starved. I don't think he's had a decent sleep for at least a week. He needs lots of rest and healthy food."

"And the gunshot wound?"

"I think you bandaged it nice and early, Diego. No sign of any problems in that area. He didn't lose too much blood, which was fortunate. It could have killed him on top of all the other problems."

Diego turned and went into the room, letting Alejandro and the doctor talk together a little more calmly. The man was still sleeping, still pale and still a mystery.

"Diego," Alejandro said, going to his son. "That man looks so much like you that it frightens me."

Diego nodded, accepting the idea without comment. It disturbed him as well, but in other ways. He was constantly being compared to this man - would that led to problems? In Zorro's suit, they would also be identical, which could add to more questions. He glanced out the window, in an attempt to calm his racing thoughts.

"Diego, have you eaten today?" Alejandro's voice sounded like it came from far away. "I would like you to eat something."

Diego thought to himself. Had he eaten yet today? It was hard to think back even a few hours.

"Did Victoria go home?"

"No, I told the servants to let her sleep as long as she needed to. She's probably hungry as well. You may as well play the host and eat with her so she doesn't feel like she is imposing."

"Victoria knows she is welcome here any time, welcome to treat our home as her own."

"Does she? She's not a child anymore, Diego."

"I suppose she is not," Diego said, distractedly. He left the room, wondering if Victoria was awake yet. Did she feel like she was imposing? Conventions aside, she was more welcome than anyone else. Social conventions be damned, if it interfered with their friendship. Zorro was bad enough an obstacle than old biddies and their gossip.


	19. Chapter 19

Lizzie stared at the fading fire, and wondered what to do. She thought Charles would have come back, but maybe something had happened to her brother. Something always happened to Charles if he went off on his own. He tended to make impulsive decisions, and something always seemed to go wrong for him.

The fire was dying, bit by bit, and the firewood was not going to last long. She didn't want to think about William, lying in the makeshift bed under all the blankets they could gather. If he was still in his right mind, he would have insisted on them sharing them out. She couldn't help it, she had to check on him. Maggie slept in her little corner at the foot of the bed, snuggled and warm. That was something to be thankful for, in this muddle of uncertainty.

Lizzie made her way up to her father's friend. Uncle William wasn't a real uncle, but her father's closest friend. He was so pale, so still. He had always been the fun friend, full of life and adventure, he had never been still as long as she had known him. He had taught her to ride, and to jump obstacles, much to her parent's dismay. Being the eldest, her parents were more anxious for a proper upbringing for her. Being who Uncle William was, he was always going to encourage the wildest in her to the forefront. He had taught her to shoot and a few self defence moves, with the caution to not mention it to her parents. The daughter of a baronet should not have to know such things, but as Sir Matthew's daughter she should, as Uncle William used to say.

He was the last link to her parents, and he looked like death. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was so quiet. He had saved their lives, she was sure of it. How had he gotten so ill, so quickly? She placed a hand on his shoulder, to shake him awake to drink some of the broth she had made. Her hand was damp, and she removed it was a gasp.

It was covered with blood, and she controlled her urge to faint or scream. These days were going from bad to worse. She ripped his sleeve and investigated the wound carefully. She wasn't sure what to do, but the wound must have been causing the fevers and delirium.

They had kept him warm, fed him when he did take broth, and kept him comfortable. He had made no mention of the wound, although he had taken the time to bandage it securely. Lizzie sighed, she knew enough to be sure to keep wounds clean and watch for changes - but she hadn't known he was injured. It wasn't seemly for her to remove clothes of a man old enough to be her father. Especially when he had insisted he was fine.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, green eyes flickering open, but not seeing her. "I tried to save him, but he was gone. I was too late. Please forgive me."

"I forgive you," Lizzie said, knowing that she was answering for her dead mother. "What happened, William?"

His eyes grew even more distant. "The men seemed like bandits but they weren't. They weren't there to steal - all the money was there, with the safe door open. The drawers had been rifled through, they were looking for a document."

"Matthew tried to stop them…"

"Damn well he tried. Half of those documents are from surveillance from the last year. Anyone wanting to steal them did not mean well."

Lizzie smiled slightly. She had never heard William swear before.

"Elizabeth, no. No no no." William was lost to deeper delirium and his forehead was heating up again. "Please no. Not you."

Lizzie sighed, and grabbed the cloth and the container of water. She mopped his forehead patiently, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. She supposed he would die soon, leaving them completely alone and vulnerable. She could hold on a little longer, and make his last hours as comfortable as possible. The fear and panic could be held back for a few more hours. For William's sake. For Maggie's.

She was the oldest, she could keep going.


	20. Chapter 20

Diego caught up with Victoria, finding her outside sitting in the weak winter sunlight. She greeted him with a smile, and he sat on the chair next to her.

"No ill effects from our adventure yesterday?" Diego asked. He had worried slightly that he had exposed Victoria to too much of the fierce winter weather. "Do you think you caught a cold?"

"No," Victoria said with a smile. "The blankets were so warm and soft, and I forgot that it had been so cold earlier. I feel so lazy this morning."

"Have you had breakfast?"

Victoria's eyes widened. "Have you?"

"I asked first," Diego said.

"No, I thought everyone would have had breakfast hours ago."

"Not me, and not you."

Diego felt hungry. They were likely to be eating alone, together. The kitchen staff would fuss, but they would find them something to eat. And the servants would busy themselves in the lunch preparation. Eyebrows might be raised as when he had bought brushes, combs, sweet smelling soaps, and other accessories to serve her needs. If the servants gossipped he had never heard any stories.

Once settled in a corner, out of the way of rushing servants, they were treated to eggs and buttered toast. Diego watched Victoria eat with a smile, before starting his own. She was hungry too, it seemed.

She met his eyes, and flushed. That was unlike his friend. He raised an eyebrow, not sure what to say. He'd embarrassed her somehow.

"I am sorry," he said gently. She flushed more, and he placed his large hand over her small one. "What have I done?"

"You must think that I eat like a peasant, I have no manners."

She hadn't been concerned about manners before, Diego noticed. What did that mean? Did she think he sat in judgement of her?

"I think you have beautiful manners, senorita."

"Now you are a flatterer."

He smiled and they met eyes again. She smiled back this time, and laughed a little.

"What's so funny?" Diego asked. "I meant it."

She stared into his eyes, aware of the seriousness of the tone of his voice. Her gaze took his breath away, and he felt trapped in time for a moment. She seemed to see all of him in an instant, and heat rose to his face in the confusion.

"Are you well, Diego? You are as white as a sheet," Victoria said, breaking the strange silence between them.

Maybe he was not well, Diego thought. It was just as unlike him to react that way, as it was for her to blush. Maybe he was feverish.

"Oh, Patron! There you are, Don Diego. We have a visitor. I have taken a gentleman to the library. He wants to talk to Don Alejandro," a young servant said, ridding them of any chance of future conversation.

Diego stood, slightly disappointed and slightly relieved.

"If you will excuse me, Victoria. I think I would like to see this strange gentleman first. I might be able to solve his problem without bothering my father."

Victoria smiled. "I have to get back to the tavern. It goes to pieces without me. I can visit tomorrow if you like."

"That would be wonderful," Diego said, as he watched her leave the room, knowing that she was on her way to say her goodbyes to Alejandro.

Diego turned back to the servant. "Did he give his name?"

"Yes, Don Diego. He says he is Sebastian de la Vega."

Diego was stunned into silence. The world seemed muted, and all he could hear was the ticking of the nearby clock. He took a deep breath to steady himself. His father would need to be warned before encountering the other man. Diego wasn't sure what the brothers felt or thought about the other, and due to the fact that Alejandro had chosen to tell him of the man now instead of as a boy, suggested the relationship wasn't great.

"Can you find a way to keep my father out of the way until I can see what's going on?"

Pablo paled and hesitated. Diego knew the question had been an expectation too much. He patted the young man's shoulder.

"Don't worry. Forget I asked. I'll deal with it."

"Yes, Patron. Thank you Patron." Colour quickly returned to Pablo's face, and his breathing deepened. Diego felt a little guilty for trying to shift his responsibility to someone else, even though other wealthy people regularly did such things, without qualms.

"Have you offered him a drink? Go and make him comfortable. I will be there shortly."

"Of course, Patron."


	21. Chapter 21

Diego entered the room silently, like a fox. He wanted to see this long lost uncle before he had to interact with him, and his curiosity was running scenarios about what had divided the brothers all those years ago.

The older man stood facing the fireplace, where the main entrance to the secret passage opened into the cave. A hand rested a whisker away from the opening mechanism. Diego held his breath, hoping that the door would not open, revealing his secrets.

"My father built this hacienda, did you know that? I was born here, and your father too."

The statement sat strangely in the air. Sebastian de la Vega had good hearing, Diego thought. Very good hearing. A lot better than most of the soldiers on sentry duty.

"We were educated in Madrid from a young age, as most Spanish caballero's sons are."

Sebastian de la Vega turned and regarded Diego with amusement. "What is bothering you, my young cub?"

Cub? Diego frowned and folded his arms. Turn of phrase or something else? What did he mean by it? Diego told himself not to rise to any conclusions if his uncle was baiting him, it was best to ignore it.

"I was wanting to see your father," Sebastian said calmly. He ran a finger over a long silver scar that was as long as his left cheek. "Is he indisposed?" A strange light came to the man's eyes.

"I am sure I can see you instead. I am fully capable of acting in my father's behalf," Diego said, seriously. "In all matters."

Sebastian's eyes twinkled again with amusement. "In all matters?"

"If necessary," Diego said with a nod.

"You seem to be under the delusion that your father has something to fear from me?"

"Doesn't he?"

"We might not have seen each other for almost thirty years, but I wish no harm to come to your father," Sebastian said.

"Would you care for some Madiera?" Diego said, relaxing slightly. The man wasn't even wearing a sword, but that meant nothing. He couldn't take his uncle's word for truth, he wasn't sure about this stranger. He seemed to be a gentleman, and that was enough to offer hospitality at least.

"I would love some. Shall I sit?"

"Of course, senor."

"You can call me uncle if you wish." Diego nodded, as he poured a glass of Madeira and a glass of water.

"You have no taste for wine?"

"I find I like my head clear when discussing business."

"Wise head on young shoulders."

"What is it that has prompted you to visit? After all, you say it has been thirty years."

"I would really prefer to talk to your father about this."

"I would really prefer to leave him out of this right now."

Sebastian met Diego's cool stare and smiled. "Alright young cub. I will talk to you. Alejandro will have to brought in eventually, as you will soon discover."

Diego frowned, still unnerved by the phrase.

"You are bristling like a puma. A tiny puma," Sebastian said, answering his unspoken question. "I have had experience with pumas...and their cubs." Sebastian paused and looked towards the fireplace in a strange gesture. "You were thinking of some other creature?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Very well. I won't call you that anymore if it offends you," Sebastian said with a shrug.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I came here to ask for help. I know we have had differences in the past, but Alejandro would want to help."

"Tell me what the problem is," Diego said. He sat in the nearby chair. He focused on the other man's body language, noting that the man was completely relaxed while he himself was edgy.

"I have a son. About your age, and he looks quite a lot like you. I have lost contact with him, and I think he may be in trouble."

"In trouble?" Diego couldn't help thinking of Alonso, lying deeply asleep in one of the hacienda's guest rooms. "What sort of trouble?"

"Sebastian?" Alejandro had entered the room and had frozen in place, staring blankly at his brother.

"Alejandro," Sebastian said, rising from his chair. "I must apologise for not visiting before now. I didn't know who could help me. You know me, I won't have to trust a stranger, and I can't trust a stranger. This could be life or death for several people I hold very dear."

"Diego," Alejandro said, noticing his son. "I need to speak to your uncle in private for a few minutes."

"Let the puppy stay, Alejandro. What is he, twelve?"

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

Alejandro hesitated and nodded. "Very well."

"Diego, your uncle followed our father's example and went into military intelligence. Most of his missions are classified as national secrets," Alejandro said. "Are you retired now?"

"Yes, but I stay interested. My son, Alonso, has taken my place."

"Alonso?" Alejandro and Diego said together.

"You know my son?"

"He is here, recovering."

Sebastian glanced towards the door. "How badly hurt is he?"

"A graze, nothing more. He was exhausted and slightly affected by the cold. He is sleeping peacefully," Diego said, rushing to reassure his uncle.

"Apart from the nightmares," Alejandro added. "He has had a few over the last few hours."

"I need to see him...But I can wait. Let him sleep."

"What is all this about?"

"There was a breach in the team. My old team, we are all retired, but we stay informed. Sir Matthew and Lady Elizabeth were killed and certain documents have gone missing. Their children are missing, and I fear the worst."

"What sort of documents?" Diego asked, with curiosity.

"Secret documents," Sebastian said sharply. Alejandro shot him a glance and a frown. "A list of retired agents, and prominent people. I believe that revolutionary ideas have spread from Spain to Mexico and could affect all of California if we don't get to the bottom of it."

"Many people are disturbed by the French usurper," Diego said thoughtfully. "The partial occupation of Spain has divided the people, and some French ideas are very tempting."

"Yes, well, there is talk that Mexico and its troubles will shortly overthrow the Spanish authorities, and if that happens all Spaniards could be in danger."

"Theories are all very nice, but what is it that we must do?" Alejandro said, derailing their confusion quickly.

"We need to find the children. If possible the documents will need to be retrieved as well, or we need to evacuate several prominent families. I believe that their lives might be in danger."

"Do we know where the documents might be? Do we know who has them now?" Diego asked.

"Alonso might know."

"How?"

"He sent me a message about the murders of Sir Matthew and Lady Elizabeth, and...," Sebastian said, his voice unexpectedly shaking. He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. Diego was intrigued.

"Well, the fact is that he was first on the scene, and would know anything that could possibly give us a clue," he added. His composure had returned to him, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"We have Clara safe and sound in the nursery," Diego said. Sebastian stared at him with surprise.

"Clara? That's wonderful. She might be able to lead us to the others, and we can have all of them safe."

"Yes, that is the idea, Sebastian," Alejandro said.

"But why was she wandering around on her own?" Sebastian asked with concern. "Is she hurt?"

"Not hurt in the slightest," Alejandro assured him.

"I need to see my son. I won't wake him yet, but I need to see him."

"Come, I will take you to him," Alejandro said encouragingly. "I can assure you he is recovering well."

zzz

The older men left the room together, leaving Diego to finish his water alone. He stood and made his way to the mantlepiece, running his fingers along the edge. The spring catch was instant and soundless, and the door swung open at his touch. He disappeared into the cave and closed the door behind him.

He sat at his desk and playing with a pencil for a moment, before scribbling notes on the pieces of paper that were always out for that purpose. Felipe turned from grooming Toronado, startled at his entry, and then smiled at him.

"It's been a while since Toronado has had a good run," Diego said after a few moments. He glanced at the black suit hanging up within arm's reach, and he itched to wear it. He had healed up weeks ago from the encounter with Risendo, and Victoria was pining for her hero.

He had thought she might recognise him if he had patience. But she had recognised him? Maybe? Hopefully, she had shelved the idea for now. Sometimes, he reminded himself, it was wise to be careful what you wished for, the complications were too confusing.


	22. Chapter 22

Victoria busied herself in tidying up and closing the tavern for the night. She was pleasantly tired and satisfied with the dealings of the day. She bolted the large front doors, and extinguished the lights in the main room, before going through to her warm kitchen.

She added some small logs to her fire pit, allowing the fire to keep going slowly through the night, to warm her guests. She carefully placed a brick near the embers to warm for her bed, as the icy draughts had been irritating through the week.

Pouring her warm milk into a mug, she remembered the times when she didn't feel so lonely and wished the man she loved wasn't dead or otherwise detained. She sat on the bench by her table, cradling the mug in her hands, and stared at the rising steam that wafted above the milk.

What if Zorro was Diego? How had she come to that conclusion? Was it really the answer? Diego always seemed very uncomfortable about the masked man. Was it jealousy, or was that fear of discovery? He must know she would never betray him, surely he must? Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, and Zorro was someone else entirely.

A small sound, like the scrape of fabric against a wall, distracted her thoughts. It had only been a tiny sound, not enough to attract attention if she had been busy. She was sitting in silence, surrounded by the isolation the sleeping pueblo afforded her. She wouldn't have noticed the sound normally, but it sounded loud to her ears. Her pulse quickened.

Was she in danger? Was her tavern about to be robbed? Or was it the presence of something, someone much more missed and longed for?

"Zorro?" She whispered, standing quickly. Her senses were alert, her eyes peering into the gloom at the edge of the lighted room. Please let it be Zorro. He had been gone too long.

She clutched the nearby cloth tightly.

"If it is you, please... Please show yourself," Victoria said, in a loud whisper. Please be here, please, she pleaded silently, afraid to swallow her pride and beg the silence for an answer. Tears had pricked her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly.

"I had thought I would have no friend here, having deserted you completely for so long," came the response. The darkness shifted, and the masked man moved further into the light. He stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction.

She couldn't help it, she ran to his chest, feeling strong arms respond, holding her close to him. That perfect resting place, she thought, snuggling against his warmth, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. She could feel his heart racing, and glanced up at him, meeting those mysterious coloured eyes that she could not define. They were like the sea, sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes grey. There was a spark of wildness within them, that seems to spark her own wildness.

Zorro's eyes shifted to her lips and then back to her eyes. She held her breath, determined not to break whatever spell had prompted him to resurface, steeling herself for the possibility that this was a feverish dream, and not reality.

His lips were on hers within a moment, gentle at first but quickly building into a passion. He had missed her just as much, she thought with wonder. But if he missed her, where had he been? Why had he stayed away so long?

She opened her eyes and broke the spell. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him slightly back. His eyes opened wider, and he stepped back, taking her hands in his.

"I know you are angry with me, I fully deserve it."

"Why did you not send word that you were alright? Where have you been for so many weeks? People said you were dead, and I was starting to believe them," Victoria said, trying not to raise her voice, mindful of the sleeping pueblo and her guests just upstairs.

Zorro kissed each hand gently and released them. "Will you forgive me?"

"Of course, but I need answers. I am not a hen so easily taken by a fox. I need answers," Victoria said firmly. She was fighting back tears again, and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Even though her tears were for him.

Zorro sighed and glanced away for a moment. "I have wanted to...needed to tell you..." He began and then stopped. "I am afraid of you. You are not a hen, Victoria. You could destroy me with a word, no, by a frown. I am helpless before you."

"I cannot understand that. You are able to face fifteen lancers in the plaza without breaking a sweat, surely I am nothing to them," Victoria answered, folding her arms. "How could I destroy the mighty Zorro?"

"I have no sword for this fight, Victoria. I have no skills of fine talking or romance, my talent is only for the sabre," Zorro said, softly.

"Nonsense," Victoria said, relaxing a little. "I have heard you recite poetry."

Poetry? Why had that come to mind? What poem had it been? The one she had shared with Diego that night in the windmill. Why had Zorro chosen to recite that particular poem?

Zorro was staring at her, speechless. Powerless, as he had claimed. Obviously, he had no answer for that statement. He must be Diego, she decided, but until he admitted it to her, she could pretend as well.

"Are you playing games with me, Senor?"

"No, Senorita. I would never dare," Zorro said seriously. "I was seriously injured and needed to recover. It was a long recovery."

He slowly presented a long-stemmed rose from the folds of his cloak, somehow uncrushed from his ride. "I thought you would appreciate a present."

She flew to his arms again, threatening to crush the perfect rose, which Zorro placed carefully on the table, while he maintained his balance. His arms went around her comfortingly.

Victoria felt the tears start, and she tried to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. A sob escaped her, and she collapsed against him, sobbing, with tears running down her face.

Zorro held her tightly, and let her cry. He murmured soothing things to her, as he stroked her hair until she managed to control herself.

Red-faced she stepped away from him, and he handed her a black silk handkerchief. He didn't comment on her emotions, and she said nothing for a moment, turning aside to hide her face from him.

"Please forgive me, querida," Zorro said, breaking the awkwardness of the silence between them. "I had no thought to your feelings, what you must have thought when there was no word from me."

"I will always forgive you. You don't need to be afraid of me. I love you," Victoria said, fighting the urge to cry again. "Even if you were completely boring under that mask. Even if you were Diego de la Vega."

He startled and then hid his surprise quickly, but Victoria had seen it.

"Well, Don Diego _is_ pretty boring, senorita," he said with a smile. "Surely I wouldn't be that boring?"

"Anything is possible."

Zorro chuckled and bowed before leaving as silently as he had arrived. She picked up the rose and lifted it to her nose to breathe in the heavy perfume. It reminded her of the fancy soaps that had been in the guest room at the grand hacienda.

All she really knew for sure was that she loved him. Whether he was Diego...or especially if he was Diego?

zzz

Zorro raced away from the tavern with a mixture of light-hearted joy and a feeling of serious threat entering his heart. He had to find the children, what was he doing racing around the district, dressed in the mask, when he could be finding the children?

He wondered if his attitude had been sparked by his uncle's dismissive attitude to him. A feeling of being challenged every time Sebastian looked at him? A feeling that his uncle knew a lot more than he shared?

Zorro shook his head, which was hard to do when at full gallop. He was overreacting. He was oversensitive. As soon as he got back into his normal routine, he would feel more settled. Once the children were found, and these cutthroats dealt with, then everything would calm down.


	23. Chapter 23

Sebastian and Alejandro were talking softly next to Alonso's bed, when Diego joined them the next morning. They stopped abruptly when they noticed him in the doorway.

"If we go forwards in a pincer movement at this location, we can trap the..."

"Diego, up before noon? Remarkable!" Alejandro said with enough irritation in his voice to send a message to his son. The arrival of a long lost brother had brought in a new obstacle to their growing closeness, Diego noted.

Diego yawned dramatically, turning a genuine yawn into a show of laziness. It had been a long night, of sleepless tossing and turning. If it was going to be that way, that old familiar way of pretense that they had lived with for years, then Diego could slip very easily back into his role. Zorro had made an appearance, and it would not be the only appearance in the near future.

"Your father says you are a scholar," Sebastian said, thoughtfully. Diego listened and waited for the sting of insult to hit. It didn't. "There needs to be more steady young men in these times of turmoil. What are your main interests?"

Alejandro sighed and left the room, muttering something about the pressing responsibilities of managing a ranch.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"I have an interest in ancient history," Diego said, after a moment's hesitation. His interests were many and varied, but he didn't know this stranger. "In particular the Punic Wars."

"Indeed," Sebastian said thoughtfully. "What do you think about the tactics of Napoleon? Do you think they mirror those of the Roman generals?"

"I wouldn't know..."

Sdbastian cast him a look of scorn, and was silent for a few moments.

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm a scholar," Diego said with a shrug, ignoring the feelings of shame that seemed to gnaw at his insides. "I wouldn't know..."

"Napoleon is a scholar of military tactics," Sebastian said softly. "I am not your father. I am not any of the senseless fools that can't see through that facade that you present to people, Diego."

Diego was silent.

"I see your build, I see the intelligence in your eyes, I see the spirit in your face."

"You have just met me," Diego responded. "You have no idea of who I am."

"I am a quick judge of character, Diego. I haven't had the wool pulled over my eyes as yet."

Sebastian sighed, as he stood and stretched. "I suppose after a separation of a few years, it was easy enough to fool your father and your acquaintances. Would it have been so easy if it weren't for that distance?"

"What would I be hiding, why would I have to fool people?"

"Indeed. What would you be hiding?" Sebastian said softly. "One can surmise."

Diego frowned, his thoughts betraying him slightly.

"The swordsman known as Zorro. He hasn't been seen for a couple of months."

"He's believed dead. He was trapped in the canyon and Risendo buried him under a pile of rubble. He got out, but the injuries he would have sustained could have led to his death."

"Very factual," Sebastian said with a nod. "No one is missing."

"Obviously not a local."

"Hmmm," Sebastian said thoughtfully. "You do not like speculating on this matter, do you?"

"There are other much more serious things to speculate on. The man has been dead for months, these children are lost in the mountains now. Which is the more important?"

Sebastian smiled. "The children, obviously."

There was another strange silence.

"I was interested in your talents, Diego. In what help or assistance you might be able to offer. Your father thought it was a waste of time. What are your plans?"

"Someone has to manage the ranch while my father is away. You are planning on searching tomorrow, when Alonso might have recovered enough strength to join you both."

"Four heads are better than three."

"My father would scoff at the idea of bringing me to the table on this matter. I'm best out of the plans."

"Unfortunate that you seem so bitter about your father's attitude to you. You might be able to bring him around to acknowledging your contributions."

"Not in this field I won't," Diego admitted. "I am easy on this, uncle. Do not feel any concern. My father admires my skills in other areas." Diego grimaced, and wondered if that were really true.

"You need to rethink this attitude of your's, Diego."

"I am sure that you will be on your way as soon as you can be, uncle. We all have our paths to go down. You have yours, I have mine."

Sebastian frowned, and nodded. "Stubborn as any other De La Vega before you." He left the room, firmly closing the door. His father would have slammed it in the same mood.


	24. Chapter 24

Alonso was well enough to leave his bed and join the other men for dinner that night. He was still pale and obviously tired, but his strength had returned. He regarded Diego with mild curiosity, but as Alejandro and Sebastian were basically ignoring him, Alonso treated him likewise.

Diego toyed with his dinner for a while, sitting at the table as manners dictated until the glasses of port were handed around. His plate had been removed and dessert waved away, and after a few toasts to Alonso's continued good health and success at finding the children safely, he admitted to a headache and left the table with apologies.

Sebastian watched him go and frowned.

"Your son has early hours, it's barely 9pm."

"Diego's health is fragile, he is often ill."

Sebastian frowned even more. "That doesn't concern you? He seems quite a capable and strong young man."

"His ailments come and go, they are never serious."

"The fact that he is often ill would concern me."

"It would be concerning if he was seriously ill," Alejandro said. "He is easily troubled. The other day's exertion would have exhausted him. Appearances are deceiving. Everyone knows he is not strong."

"Appearances are often deceiving," Sebastian agreed, his frown clearing with a sudden flash of understanding. "Tell me, Alejandro, what would you do if you knew the identity of Zorro?"

"Zorro? The man is dead, surely?"

"Hypothetically, Alejandro."

"Well, he has been a great hero, and saved many people for many years. Myself several times."

"He is a criminal, an outlaw…"

"Outlaws out here need to be judged by their doings, not the fact that they work against the legal guardians of the land. Our alcaldes have had a lot to be desired, both in competence and in morality. The governor paid no heed to my letters, or anyone else's. If Zorro was running for alcalde most of this pueblo would vote him in. Even without knowing who he is. Or was. The man is dead, everyone knows that. He would have appeared to Victoria at least if only to reassure her."

"I see."

"The man was a veritable genius with both the horse and the sword. If he had joined the military we would both be serving under him."

"Perhaps…" Sebastian ran a finger over his long, narrow scar, an unconscious movement.

"He sounds like a fairytale, not like a real person," Alonso said. "If he was fighting against the corruption in this area, he must have been a patriot."

"Yes, I would say he was," Alejandro said with a sigh. "What a disappointment that he is no longer able to help. He would find those children and bring them back before tomorrow night. No trouble at all."

"A murderer is determined to stop them reaching your hacienda, Alejandro. He might have had more trouble than you would expect with those men."

"I was too late to save anyone that day," Alonso said slowly. "I saw the retreating gang and covered William as he took the children and ran. I let off several shots before they retreated. I may have killed one or two."

"You tried your best, Alonso. That is all we can expect," Sebastian said, glancing at him with concern. "There was blood on your clothes when you were brought here, where had that come from?"

Alonso went as white as a sheet, and glanced down at his port. He downed it quickly, as if desperate to steady himself.

"I was too late, but Margaret...she was still alive…"

"You didn't say," Sebastian said after a moment to process the information. "She saw a doctor, of course."

"Sebastian, the boy said 'was' alive. It implies that she may be no longer so."

Sebastian stared at his brother for a moment, and then turned to his son slowly. "Alonso, you mean…?"

"My wife is dead. She took the shot meant for Elizabeth but it went through both of them," Alonso said, woodenly. "She was still alive when I got there, but she wasn't when I left."

"Scoundrels," Sebastian said, and swore under his breath. "And the child?"

"Carlos is with his nanny at the house, he's fine," Alonso said, dismissively. "She only went to visit her sister, Father. I didn't accompany her, because I was intent on my work. If I had known the danger she had walked into, perhaps I could have saved them all…"

"You are not to blame for this, Alonso. You cannot blame yourself," Alejandro said, placing a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "The ones on whom the blame belongs, are the scoundrels that pulled the trigger."

"It is connected. I know it is connected. The instigators are behind this, if only I could keep up with the reports, I would have known they were in danger."

"They were all in military intelligence, Alonso. They knew the risks, both in service and in retirement. None of them would blame you. Especially Margaret," Sebastian said, gently. "She always acted first and thought afterwards. Perhaps if she had been a man, it would not have been that way, but she was the best decoder I had ever seen, woman or man."

Alonso pushed his chair away from the table, and rose. "I am going to bed, Father, Uncle. I am exhausted, and I wish to travel with you in the morning to find these children."

"Rest up, Alonso. We are leaving at daybreak," Sebastian said, thoughtfully. "If you are unwell, we may have to leave you behind. I won't endanger your health for something in which you don't need to be a participant."

Alonso shook his head. "I promised Margaret I would find the children, and I will be there when they are found. My health is nothing to that of those children."

Sebastian watched as his son stormed off, his face tinged with his anger.

"Our sons," Alejandro said with a half smile. He was shaking his head with resignation.

"Yes, indeed." Sebastian said. He thought of Diego's strangely silent behaviour at dinner, and Alonso's hidden grief that had spilled out in self recrimination. Communication was a trifle hard with those two at the present.

"I am retiring, Alejandro. Early start in the morning."

"Yes, indeed. I will be heading that way myself shortly. Sleep well, brother."

Sebastian nodded and left the room, heading towards the guest quarters. He glanced up towards the landing where Alejandro's and Diego's quarters were. Perhaps he could talk to Diego before he truly went to sleep? He would be reading far into the night himself, and a scholar would be doing similar.

He turned and made his way to Diego's door. He hesitated, and decided not to knock. What would he see that he hadn't before? Even if there was a young servant in the bed with his nephew, it was not outside his experience. It wasn't as if he could be shocked, especially after raising his own son to manhood.

Sebastian eased the door open, as silently as he could. The shutters were open, allowing moonlight to spill in like milk. The bed was empty, there were no young girls in the bed, there was no young man in the bed. It had not been touched that night. Not yet, at any rate.

Where was Diego? Should he alert Alejandro? Running a finger over his scar, he decided not to alarm anyone. Diego was a grown man. Whatever he was doing was his own business, but it was worth considering the possibilities.


	25. Chapter 25

Zorro was active, riding Toronado slowly through freshly fallen snow. It was so very silent, the snow muffling any sound. Toronado snorted, breathing out a puff of steam. Zorro patted the horse on his neck reassuringly.

"We will be home and dry in our warm cave soon enough," he said, keeping his voice as soft as he could. "Just a reconnaissance mission, my friend."

His heart was heavy, more aware than he had been about his father's disdain. It had been a while since it had stung so painfully. The last couple of months had been a slow growing together over shared confusion and grief, and the healing of each other's wounds. They had developed a method of accommodating each other's habits and interests, but all that had vanished in the wake of the arrival of Sebastian and Alonso.

He shook his head. He couldn't be jealous of his own uncle and cousin, that was madness. He needed to get back into the saddle and if the mask was what it took to work with confidence he would have to use it. His activities would distract him long enough to soothe the hurt. He could think about things after the children were safe, and as long as he kept his profile small he could slip into the reality that Zorro was indeed dead. If it was truly necessary. His injuries had shaken him, but perhaps it was temporary.

Zorro rode to a small overhang, and dismounted, leaving the stallion sheltered from the snow. He crept down to where Alonso's camp was, and borrowed his hand held telescope to scan the surroundings. In the dark, it was an almost futile exercise, but the telltale light of fire might give some indication where people were sheltering. Whether it was the children or the bandits it hardly mattered. Either group could be dealt with.

His sharp eyes made out the muted light from a poorly hidden fire several metres up the hillside. With another sweep of the surroundings, he made out the bandits fire. It was badly hidden, worse than the inexperienced children's attempt. The bandits were overconfident. Their inexperience helped give the impression that they relied on an outside ringleader. Interesting.

Killers for hire? Or just muscle for someone who liked to pull the trigger himself? Or herself, he reminded himself. The ladies could be clever, and he had been drawn into deception more than once. What they lacked in the manly accomplishments they made up for with intelligence and surprise.

He hoped it was a man, though. He wanted to have a chance to fight this murderer with his own skills. A warm sense of rage flushed through his body, and his fists clenched as if he wanted to punch someone. He took a deep breath to regain his sense of peace and reason, and the feeling was banished. Settling this problem would come soon enough.

Tonight was a chance to discover where the players were. Not to engage with them. Although the children...if he attempted a rescue, the bandits would be alerted and he couldn't protect the children adequately while fighting several armed men. They would have to wait another day. He sighed, it was a hard decision.

He arrived back at the cave several hours before dawn, confident that he knew the layout and several plans that might work in engaging with the bandits and the children.

He removed the saddle, and began to rub the sweat from his horse. When the sweat had been completely dried, he brushed Toronado into a high shine. Then he placed a thick horse blanket over the stallion, aware that Toronado was colder and more tired than he was. He offered a sugar cube and it was taken immediately. The horse snorted again, as if he was indignant about leaving the warmth of the cave for the wilds of the mountain.

"Sorry boy. Unfortunately you match my outfit," Diego said, as he removed the mask. "And what other horse could have outrun the garrison?"

Diego rubbed Toronado's nose affectionately, before changing back into his normal clothes. The hacienda would be rising soon, the servants before the masters, and he would rather not be seen wandering the halls by either. He grabbed a flagon from his desk and a small pouch, and left the cave silently and swiftly.

He went into Alonso's room first. He poured a dash of liquid from the flagon into the water glass that sat half empty on the bedside table. Then he assisted a half awake Alonso to drink it, and as Alonso started to wake further, applied chloroform. It was easier to half carry the young man to Diego's room than it had been to assist him down the mountain.

He settled Alonso on his own bed, and stood back. He reminded himself that this was a good plan - for both of them. Alonso wasn't fit enough to fight at his best, and Diego knew he could deal with the bandits. He knew the layout of the mountains more than Alonso did, and he had gained whatever knowledge Alonso's scouting had achieved.

Diego returned to Alonso's room, and changed his clothes into Alonso's day clothes. He practiced some mannerisms in the mirror to see if he could perform well enough to fool his father, knowing he was unlikely to fool his uncle for long. He just needed to be mistaken for Alonso until it was too late to switch back. He could prove himself before then, he was sure.

A flicker of sadness flitted through his mind, knowing how easily his father would be fooled in the morning. The potion given to Alonso was harmless, but it would be dramatic enough to compel the doctor to be called, and Alejandro might be persuaded to stay home as well.

If his plan didn't work, he always had the option of the black suit. He kept a spare suit in Esperanza's saddlebags. For emergency use. Alonso's sword and pistol would be helpful as well.


	26. Chapter 26

The stable hands had discovered the boy early the morning after he had taken shelter in the loft. Taking pity on the young man, they rifled through their own clothes and hastily dressed the shivering boy with hand me downs. They insisted that he drink the scalding black coffee before it got cold, concerned about his blue lips.

He sat on a rickety wooden chair with his coffee, sipping hesitantly, while a few men took turns in attempting conversation. Who was he? Where had he come from? How old was he? What was he running from? How did he even get as far as the de la Vega hacienda on foot?

"Charlie," Charles said, shivering still. A kind stable hand threw a heavy horse blanket around him that smelled of saddle wax and oil and horses and straw. He shivered more as warmth started to seep into his body.

The head groom and his offsider talked in another stall, with enough distance between them and the boy that nothing could be overheard. They debated whether to tell Don Alejandro straight away or to leave it for a few days. The main house was in an uproar with the little girl and the long lost relatives surprising everyone.

"Will de la Vega be angry if we leave it though?"

"Alejandro de la Vega has so much on his mind, this on top would be just another thing to worry about. We can take care of the boy for a few days. Then we will tell them. How important is another runaway waif anyway?"

"I guess so. But isn't Don Diego going to be in charge for a few days?"

"He'll have so much on his plate with the ranch that anything else will be too much."

"You like this kid, Pablo."

"He has a bit of spirit," Pablo said, with a sigh. "I need a new stableboy."

"Yes well, you have to face the consequences, not me. They may be some this time."

Pablo shrugged. "Don Alejandro is quick to anger, and quick to forgive. Don Diego is more reasonable in the first place, and you can reason with him. Consequences will be short lived and minor."

"I have to exercise Felicia, she has been cooped up too long," the offsider said. "I hope you know what you are doing?" He left, heading to where a fine black mare shifted impatiently in her stall.

"Always."

Charles had a steep learning curve to manage that day. Sweeping manure out of the stalls wasn't something he had done before, but he performed it to the best of his ability. He was instructed and set to work cleaning the riding tack, rubbing the leather with soap and buffing it to a high shine. Several saddles later and he was thoroughly warm and slightly exhausted.

He was sent to rest, with blankets to keep him warm, and later had a warm soup for lunch. The men took pity on him, as they had noticed the smooth hands and clean fingernails. The boy was obviously a gentleman's son, and unused to physical exercise. He must be a runaway from a fine home.

Pablo pondered his previous decision and decided to tell the de la Vegas in the morning. This was too important to leave too long. Don Alejandro would soon be able to find the boy's family, and that was the right thing to do.

He smiled, realising that half a day's work out of the boy might make a difference in the young man's life. Gentlemen's sons seemed to be born a trifle self centred. Although Don Diego had been interested at a very young age in learning the real work behind caring for his family's horses.

Zzz

The next day, Charles woke even earlier than the stablehands, and wondered if he should go to the pueblo and attempt to steal the alcalde's reward money. At least he could have a look at the buildings. His sisters depended on him to stay safe. He had to try. How hard could it be? He had overheard several conversations talking about the incompetence of the local garrison, staying quiet in his corner of the stables. He was smart and capable.

He slipped out, but not before taking a small pony only just capable of being ridden. It would return to the stable when he dismounted, so he didn't feel too guilty. It was borrowing not stealing. He rode bareback well, and didn't bother with riding tack, except the bridle. It would have woken everyone else up. He didn't have time to be stopped now.

The little horse was very hardy and fast. Within an hour, he was in the outskirts of the pueblo. He dismounted, and sent the pony home. With a bit of luck the pony wouldn't even have been missed. How he would explain the fact that the pony was outside the stable he didn't even consider.

The pueblo was waking up, the townspeople going about their chores early to get them out of the way so they could stay inside in front of their fires for the rest of the day. A few curious glances were cast his way. He made his way to the tavern, aware of an empty stomach. Maybe the tavern keeper could feed him for a few chores? His coins had lasted only a day, as his escape with his siblings had been unexpected.

Victoria was sweeping the floor, getting the tavern ready for her first customers of the day. She startled as the boy entered the main room. He was a mess. His clothes were finely made, but had torn and stained and bits of straw still clung in his hair.

"What has happened to you, boy?" She said, leaning her broom handle against the nearest support pole. "You look like you could do with a warm bath and a decent sleep."

"I'm fine," Charles said with a shrug of young shoulders. "Can I do some chores for a few bites of food? I'm a hard worker."

Victoria glanced at his hands. Obviously unused to hard work, they were dirty, with several broken fingernails. He had worked hard lately, but not as a rule. She remembered the lost children, and decided that this was the boy. Charles.

Although he was very reluctant to ask for help. As were most of the men in her experience. She could play his game for a while. Diego could help her with him later.


	27. Chapter 27

Victoria set the small boy some chores to keep him busy, as she readied her tavern kitchen for the coming customers. He was feeding the chickens, mucking out the small stable, and fetching water from the outside well, as she decided what to do with him. She wrote out a short message for Diego, requesting a visit and some clothes that might fit the small teenager. Giving it to a passing de la Vega servant returning home, she was relieved that she was free when Charles was finished.

Dishing out a plate of eggs and toast for the teenager, she smiled and made him sit at her kitchen table.

"All done?"

"Yes, ma'am. All done." Charles starting eating his breakfast with enthusiasm.

"Good. After that, you need to have a rest upstairs for a while."

"Why?"

"You must have been up before dawn and all that work would have been exhausting," Victoria said, firmly. "Take it as an order, and if you are reasonable, I will pay you money, not just food and the room."

He sighed, and nodded.

Victoria took the empty plate and led the boy upstairs to a spare room. She closed the curtains, and made sure he was lying down, before she left to deal with the growing demands of her business.

Alonso de la Vega awoke in confusion. His head was pounding as if he had downed more than his fair share of alcohol, but he had refused to drink the night before. He glanced around the room, searching for a point of reference, but found none.

"Diego, what is keeping you?" Alejandro was shouting. "You can't sleep all day."

His uncle popped his head inside Diego's room. "Are you unwell, Diego?" His voice had a tinge of both frustration and concern.

"My head…" Alonso said vaguely, fighting nausea to sit up in bed. "I'm sorry?"

Alejandro frowned, and nodded. "Take it slowly, Diego. I am heading off with Sebastian and Alonso. My steward will help you with the hacienda work. We will be back with the children before you know it."

Alonso opened his mouth to question his uncle, but he was gone before he got a word out. The door was closed gently behind the older man, and Alonso sunk back down into the bed.

What on earth was going on? What had just happened? He wasn't following well with normal logic, but it seemed that his uncle had gone mad. Or had he gone mad? He shook his head trying to clear the fog gathering in his mind. It just made him dizzy.

He again tried to study his surroundings, and helped himself to sit up. A piece of paper sat on the night-stand, offering an answer to the confusion. He snatched it up and unfolded it.

"Alonso,

I am sorry for this unkind treatment of you, but you know as well as I do that your condition was unequal for this trek today. To save unnecessary drama, I suggest you take on my role, as I have taken on yours. I trust you will forgive me, when I help bring back the children with your father and mine.

Diego de la Vega."

Alonso frowned, and tore up the piece of paper with annoyance. Whatever Diego had done to him would be avenged, he decided. He tried to get up, but a dizzy spell made him lie down again. Then he noticed a small vial next to where the note had been. Another piece of paper was tied to the neck of the tiny bottle.

"This will help. I apologise for your troubles, but there was no time to reason with you," he read. He picked up the bottle, and examined it. What further harm could it do? His cousin was annoying there was no doubt, but he didn't want to kill him. He had no motive, and generally seemed quite sane and somewhat wiser than the general population.

He uncorked it, and tipped it down his throat in one go. He coughed and choked a little, as the strength was much more powerful than he was prepared for. He grew much more drowsy than he had been, and fell into a deep sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

Alonso woke an hour later, with all symptoms settled. He felt another twinge of rage as he remembered drinking the potion expecting different results. It was a lot better to be able to sit, and actually stand without nausea and dizziness. The drowsiness that had settled so deeply had vanished. Diego probably meant well, but he had never been so maddened by someone in his life.

He made his way slowly to the library, to at least try to get his bearings. He had been resting most of the time he had been at the hacienda, and didn't even feel like he knew where everything was. His life as an agent had taught him to adapt quickly, and if it was easier to take Diego's place, then he'd try. People close to his cousin would probably pick the differences very quickly, but he would do his best.

Alonso scanned the bookcases to try to get some insight into his cousin. Nothing stood out to him, the titles were all normal titles, books any gentleman could be expected to own. Some of them were probably even Don Alejandro's favourites. A small writing desk near the window was mostly bare, but there was a small stack of books on the table top.

He picked up the top book, and read "The Adventures of Robin Hood," and smiled slightly. Removed from the shelves, it seemed more important. More personal. A stack of letters lay next to the books, and the first was addressed to the Governor of California. The next letter was addressed to an Spanish aristocrat that moved in court circles. Close to the King. He resisted the urge to unseal the letters to read them, and examined the next book in the pile. "The Three Musketeers". The remaining books were scientific journals, with bookmarks in place. Alonso had never been very interested in science, but it appeared his cousin was keeping up with most innovations. Diego was studying the journals, combing them for ideas? Why? What would the purpose be?

A servant approached him. He smiled, and nodded.

"Don Diego, I have a message from Senorita Victoria," the servant said, handing Alonso a piece of paper, before leaving.

Alonso sat on a nearby chair, and opened the folded note. Her handwriting was neat for a rushed note. Firm and at the same time delicate in the form of the letters. Someone had taught her to write very well.

Don Diego,

I hate to disturb you when you must be very busy. I believe I have found the boy of the lost children, and need your help. His clothes are in rags and he is in need of a good bath and a good feed. He needs a change of clothes, but I think we should reunite him with his sister in the de la Vega nursery for safe keeping. Please come if you can, and send someone to fetch us if you are delayed.

Your Friend Victoria

He glanced up and decided he would go himself. He didn't have to, but it would make his day more interesting. Victoria trusted Diego to respond immediately in a satisfactory way. Like a brother? Or as something more? He wanted to see if he could fool her as easily as the servant had been fooled. Or Alejandro himself, he remembered - that showed he wasn't as observant with his son as he probably should be.

Was Diego hiding something? Most probably yes, as he felt confident to take his place on the search. His father must be very unobservant, and if Diego wasn't hiding something, he would tell his father of his abilities and insist on being included. He was a very intelligent man, it was obvious in his reading matter. The scientific journals were definitely not light reading.

Yes, he would try his best to emulate his cousin. Maybe fooling his friends would be revenge enough, proving that they didn't truly know him at all? It felt cruel but at the moment he didn't much care. Diego already had an appointment with his fist, although he wasn't aware of that fact.

ZZZ

Diego had ridden with the other men in silence, wondering about how his cousin was. In the end it would work out fine, but if the man was anything like himself he would grow angry and frustrated. He needed rest, and Diego was sure he had done the right thing. His methods were a little outside his comfort zone, in hindsight, but at the time it seemed perfectly reasonable.

He rode on the right side of Sebastian, avoiding too much close contact with his own father, who rode on Sebastian's left. When he had joined the older man, Sebastian had raised his eyebrows, but whether it was his lateness or his identity Diego couldn't tell. He hoped he had better acting skills than to be discovered immediately.

His father didn't seem too fussed about anyone apart from his brother. They had been away from each other for many years, and he was making up for lost time. Alejandro would eventually get around to talk to 'Alonso'. It was a matter of politeness, and his father was polite. He would have to remember he was acting and focus on that, and it would take more concentration than a normal day.

Diego knew he wasn't able to fool his uncle. He didn't know Alonso well enough to fool his own father. They were obviously very close, a lot closer than he and Alejandro. He realised his thoughts were influenced by a tinge of envy, and maybe it had coloured his actions towards his cousin. He owed his cousin an apology, he knew that. He wondered if it would be enough.


	29. Chapter 29

Victoria had discovered that she needed to keep a sharp eye on the boy, as twice she had caught him trying to sneak outside without her seeing. She wasn't sure what he was planning but he was definitely up to mischief, as he blushed beet red on discovery.

"Come into the kitchen," she said, sternly, on the third attempt. "You will sit at this table and eat some breakfast and tell me about what has happened to you."

"I don't need your help, senorita," he said, with such a high born English accent and tone that she smiled in spite of herself.

"No? Then why come to my tavern in search of work for food?"

"Well…"

"And you are shivering again. From cold?"

The boy checked himself. He was cold and he was hungry. He didn't have enough energy to be angry. He was persistent. She had to sleep sometime. Maybe the customers would become too much work for her assistants. He had to get to the alcalde's office and steal that money. For the bandits. For all he knew the bandits had already kidnapped his sisters. He would have a moment to sneak out.

"I'm sorry, Senorita," he said, dropping his eyes.

Victoria crossed her arms, and scanned his face as he glanced up again. Raised as she had been with two brothers, and also being responsible for them after her parents had gone, she knew the mischief that hid in that gesture.

"So you should be," she said with a frown that dissolved into a slight smile. "Now, eat your eggs, and drink your juice."

He sighed, and devoured the meal as only a famished boy could. He forgot all manners that he might have been taught, and ate faster than a starving cowboy. Pilar was washing dishes and preparing more food for the customers, and Victoria walked over to her.

"Are you sure you are doing fine without me? It seems very busy out there," Victoria said, her eyes on the boy constantly.

"Of course. I could ask my other sister to come in as well as Sonja, if it does get on top of us," Pilar said, wiping her brow with a cloth. "For one of the coldest winters, it is hot work today."

"Thank you and your sisters," Victoria said.

"You have helped us before, Victoria. We are only repaying your kindness."

Victoria glanced at the boy as he wiped his face with a cloth. He was even more grubby than before.

"Buenos Dias, Victoria," said a voice behind her, and she caught her breath. Before she could turn around, the boy reacted.

"Uncle Alonso, I can't believe it," Charlie shouted, running to the tall man who had stepped into the kitchen. Victoria turned.

The man before her was tall, handsome and familiar. He gave her a kind smile, laughing at the boy for a moment.

"Easy mistake, young man. Alonso is my cousin. My name is Diego. We look very much alike, don't we?"

Victoria crossed over automatically to the table and collected the dishes, placing them near the sink. Something was off. The man was Diego, wasn't he? But something was wrong.

"Are you alright, Diego?"

"Yes, I was feeling a little ill earlier, but I am fine now," he said. His voice was different, she decided. A little too deep.

"You might be catching a cold, Diego. I think your voice is getting hoarse."

"I brought the buggy," he said. "We can get Charlie to the nursery to meet his sister. Clara will be so pleased to see you. She has been very worried."

"Clara! Thank goodness," Charlie said, relieved. "I haven't been very good at this adventure."

"I think you have done the best you can under the circumstances, Charles."

Victoria was still unsettled. "I can pack a few things…"

"I have everything we need at the hacienda. Go and fetch a thick shawl and we will meet you in the buggy in a few minutes."

She made her way upstairs, her mind trying to decide what was bothering her. Something was still wrong, but she didn't know what. Diego was Diego, all present and perfect in that blue suit he wore. Perfect? Was that the right word? Was that even an appropriate thought to think of her friend?

zzz

Alonso had noticed Victoria's confusion. Leading the boy outside to the fine buggy, he knew he had to get Charlie's cooperation, or the deception would not work.

"You look very much like my uncle," Charlie said, staring at him.

"That's because I am your uncle," Alonso whispered. "I am pretending to be my cousin, Diego."

"Why?" Charlie said with wide eyes.

Alonso hesitated. It sounded like an irrational game for a moment, and he had to think of a decent excuse.

"Because it is classified," Alonso said, vaguely. "A need to know basis."

"Something to do with Work?" Charlie whispered back. "Oh that makes sense."

Alonso thought it made less sense than anything else he could have thought up. To say that they had swapped identities because Diego had thought it best, sounded worse though, so it was a win.

"I need you to pretend as well, Charlie," he whispered. "Victoria has to think I am Diego."

"I don't know if we can trick her," Charlie said. "She is very smart."

"We both have to try very hard. It's important."

Charlie nodded. "Ok, Don Diego."

Alonso smiled. Hopefully it would be easier now with the boy's help. Victoria had a sharp eye for detail, picking up on the voice difference. Going on vague details of Diego's manner and personality was not as helpful as he thought. She knew the man and he did not.

zzz

The boy reluctantly bathed, supervised by Alonso. The water was too hot, apparently, and the warm was too cold. To destroy the argument, Alonso had the fire built up a bit, and a bit of cold water added. There were no excuses left.

Alonso noticed the temperature of both the room and the water had not changed at all, but Charlie had accepted the bath better with the deception. Alonso had the boy scrub his hair clean, well aware that his light brown hair was a lot lighter last time he saw his nephew.

It was close to the colour of Lady Elizabeth's hair, and that of her sister, Margaret. He closed his eyes to shut of the memory and forget what had happened to them both. Grieving could come later, when the children were safe. When they had them all in the nursery, and they had all been bathed and dressed appropriately. When his father could take charge of the situation, as it was completely beyond Alonso's knowledge how to move forward again.

He watched blankly as the boy dried himself, as a flash of his beautiful wife crossed his memory like a ghost. He gasped aloud, and mastered himself with difficulty. Focus on the boy. He needs an adult, not a weeping fool.

"These clothes are nice and warm." Charles was saying, standing fully clothed down to shoes and socks. How long had he been staring blankly into space? Long enough for the boy to break the silence with something vague and uncomfortable.

"Yes? They must be Diego's hand me downs. You look very fine." Alonso led the boy to the nursery where Clara hugged him with tears streaming down her face.


	30. Chapter 30

The bandits were getting a little impatient with Charles and the lack of results, and were discussing what to do with his sisters.

They could leave them where they were, and they would soon die of exposure without help. Or they could do what they had threatened to do, and take them into forced labour.

Their leader was contemplating the issue very carefully. He had been paid to find and chase the children, and the information he had received from his employer was scant. Just follow the children, and when they laid low to keep tabs on them. Stupid orders, but he had been promised a lot of money. Much more than he was usually offered. No stipulation had been given about the children's safety, and the ultimate result was not suggested.

His employer was not someone he would like to cross, but he'd had no word from them for several days. Perhaps he was to let the children die. If he knew more about his shadowy employer he would blackmail them with exposure and get even more money, but his boss was clever.

He had enjoyed playing with the boy. Obviously from a wealthy family, that boy. It would have been amusing for Charles to have been imprisoned or hung for robbing the Alcalde, but no word came from that sector either. The boy seemed to have vanished. He would have thought that Charles would return to help his sisters, and that made his disappearance more interesting.

If his employer had wanted him to keep the children alive and unharmed, he might be in trouble, but that hadn't been stipulated.

"Hey Max," his second in charge said. "What'll we do now?"

"Easy Joe. Patience," Max said, shifting.

"Joe's right, we can't keep sitting around in the cold. Those girls are probably frozen solid anyway, and…"

"Quit whining, Jack," Max spat, and then smiled. "We all know about your issues."

That brought a chuckle from the group. Jack had been worried about piles on his posterior for hours and had been complaining loudly for several hours.

A man dashed inside, and warmed his hands before the fire. He looked as if he had been running hard.

"Boss, there are some horsemen coming this way," he said softly, as Max raised an eyebrow.

"How close?"

"A bit of a distance, but they are getting closer."

"Are they sticking to the road? Or are they going cross country?"

"The road so far. I watched them for a while, and they kept looking up at the mountains. Suggests that they are planning to ride cross country."

"I see," Max said, rubbing the stubble on his chin for a moment. "I suggest we load up and prepare to move, or to fight."

"How many?" He said, unable to believe it wasn't his first question.

"Three."

"So not much of a posse," Max shrugged. "We sit tight until they get too close, and then we shoot them. No problem."

The men were already priming their rifles with their faces grim.

zzz

Diego shifted in the saddle, and flexed his shoulders a little. He hadn't ridden so far at such a slow speed for a while. Toronado loved to run, so he usually gave him his head. Sebastian was slowing and stopping, and Diego dismounted to help him.

"What do we need to do?" Diego asked, resisting a desire to glance behind him at his own father who was a little slower in joining them.

"We are stopping to rest the horses. We'll go behind those rocks over here, and build a fire pit. We'll make coffee," Sebastian said, leading his horse behind the rocks. "Alonso."

His uncle said the name seriously, and Diego knew his subterfuge was at an end, even if it hadn't before.

"Before Alejandro gets around here, I want to know what you did with my son, Diego."

"He is safe. I knew he wasn't fit for this, he wasn't well."

"No, what did you do with him?"

"I drugged him, and he should be feeling better now. He may even join us soon," Diego said, glancing behind him. "Please, I don't want my father to know. I want to do this as a man, not a scholar. Please don't give me away."

Sebastian finally smiled slightly. "Dig me a decent fire pit, and we'll see," he said.

Diego frowned slightly. Not a promise. He searched his mind for the idea of a fire pit, and thought hard. Sebastian obviously wasn't going to tell him how. Alonso would have already made one by now, Diego thought, with even more envy.

"The horses should stay close. Once the fire is going, they will need it as much as we will," Alejandro said, talking to Sebastian.

Diego took the unloaded rifle from the saddle of his horse, and knelt in the snow. Digging down through the snow was hard work, but a hole in the snow would just drip thawing moisture onto any fire and douse it. The soil was loose after he got through the first inch, making the digging with the rifle butt easier. He dug out a large pit, and then a smaller hole, carefully creating a tunnel from the small hole to the larger hole.

"Well done, Alonso," Sebastian said with interest. "I'll deal with the fire, and you can go collect some more firewood and tinder. The fire will eat through my stores very quickly."

A cold walk was in store for Diego, but it was better than allowing his father to discover his fraud. He would have to walk a far way to find any brush and shrubs, but the wet tinder and wood would soon dry near the fire pit. He nodded and smiled slightly. He had passed his first real test.


	31. Chapter 31

Alejandro greeted what he thought was his nephew, as Diego brought up a load of fuel for the third time. It would have been rude and suspicious if he wasn't polite and he returned the greeting, using the deep voice of Zorro, instead of his normal voice.

He couldn't believe that his own father didn't recognise him, even though he had prayed that he wouldn't. He didn't want to be doubted, to be underestimated, to be 'Diego'. He didn't want his father to shame him or to send him home, thinking him untrained and incapable.

It was his own fault of course. It still stung, and his heart was heavy. He wanted his father to be proud of him, and he was. Alejandro was proud of all the ways Diego was different, all the ways that were beyond the older man. He was unaware of all the ways Diego was the same, and Diego sometimes longed to ask for advice or to boast of his day's work with someone that knew almost exactly what he was talking about. Something Sebastian and Alonso shared every day, if they wanted to.

"You're doing better than I expected, young man," Alejandro said, peering at the young man nearby. The younger man sat in the shade, a little tired from collecting firewood, a little frustrated that the task had fallen on him.

'Alonso' said nothing. "I believe the fire pit was your own idea. The chimney effect was ingenious. How did you think it up? I have never seen anything similar before. It gives off hardly any smoke, and the flames are hot, even in the snow."

"My training covered it," was the dry reply.

Alejandro paused for a moment. His nephew had a decidedly deeper voice than his son. There was something that seemed strange.

"Have I offended you in any way, Alonso?" Alejandro said, thinking he may have found the problem.

"Offended me?" The man looked startled. "No, Uncle, of course not."

"Not feeling as well as you'd hoped?"

"Yes, that must be it," the man said. "I am feeling rather tired."

"Perhaps you should head back to the hacienda."

"No, I am fit for the mission, I'm sure of it."

He protests too much, Alejandro thought with a smile. In their small group, they would watch each other's backs, and his nephew would be safe enough. He had a sharp mind, like Diego, but unlike his son, it had followed through with action.

"Well, you did well with the firewood, son," Sebastian said, shifting from where he had been scanning the landscape for signs of activity. "The fire burns well."

"I was just saying what a strategic fire pit he made for us."

"Yes, Alonso is very adaptable to situations," Sebastian said thoughtfully. "What of your son, Alejandro?"

"Diego? Well, he is highly educated, and experiments with science and mathematics," Alejandro said thoughtfully. "He should be a fine horseman, and he had the makings of a swordsman before he went to Madrid."

"Why isn't he?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I called him back too soon. Perhaps I should have told him to stay at university, and finish his studies. He seemed to have a touch of fire about him when he first arrived home."

"What happened when he arrived home?"

"The alcalde overreacted and arrested Victoria Escalante, and then promptly arrested me. There was a moment I thought my son would challenge the alcalde, but he held himself in."

"Then what happened, Alejandro?"

"I suppose it was the fact that I am outspoken and Diego is not. He has caution and carefulness, that I could never dream of possessing. Maybe there is only room for one hothead de la Vega in Los Angeles."

"How did you get out of jail? What was Diego doing in your absence?"

"I don't know. Zorro saved me and Victoria, that's how we escaped," Alejandro said thoughtfully. Was his brother prompting him to remember something? What had Diego done in his absence? Paced the floors, no doubt. Perhaps he had penned a letter to their lawyers.

"How long had Zorro been active before this?" Sebastian said, his eyes flickering over to Diego.

"Zorro? It was his first appearance," Alejandro said. There was something in that, if he could only reason it out.

"What was that?" Diego said, in a hoarse whisper. "I'm sure I heard something."

"What? What was it?" Sebastian said, scanning the landscape, grabbing his rifle to prepare for action.

"I'm sure it came from over there," Diego said, running lightly towards the edge of the drop.

The older men joined him, jolted out of their conversation by the alarm. Sebastian shot Diego a frown and hard eyes, knowing that it had been a rouse, a distraction.

"I'm sorry, perhaps I was mistaken," Diego said, dropping his eyes.

"Don't be too angry with him, Sebastian. He's young," Alejandro said, responding to his brother's attitude. "Over excitable, so unlike Diego."

"Impetuous and unthinking, you mean," Sebastian said slowly. "At least your son has the presence of mind to think before he reacts."

"He never reacts," Alejandro said morosely. "How can two boys who seem identical in so many ways seem so opposite in attitude?"

"Go and take a watch, Alonso. I'll talk to you later," Sebastian said firmly.

"When we were younger, we were opposite in attitude at times," Sebastian added, turning to Alejandro with a slight smile. "Do you remember?"

"All those years apart, we should have thought before we reacted."

"We would have never been able to do that, not at that age. I never offered my condolences when Elena died, and I should have. You must miss her."

"She always understood Diego better than I did. He seems to take after her in so many ways, and she always knew what mischief he was planning."

"Yes, Alonso's mother was much the same. Twins often are, you know," Sebastian said, sitting down where he had been resting before the alarm.

"How did Alicia die?" Alejandro asked, gently. "I never heard."

"Bandits," Sebastian said sadly. "You'd think I could have kept her safe, but no. We were travelling with several other families, and we were surrounded. We put up a good fight, men and women too, every adult who could point and shoot. I was injured and I missed seeing the bandit that shot at me, but Alicia didn't. She protected me with her body, and gave her life for mine."

"Brave and stubborn like her sister."

"Yes, I will never forgive myself for letting her down. It was only a moment, but it changed my life forever. I should have protected her."

"I'll go and talk to Alonso," Alejandro said after a moment. "Perhaps an uncle's words will be more welcome than a father's?"

Alejandro made his way up to where they had set up the lookout point, and soon saw that it was empty. He looked carefully around for a few minutes, and went down to Sebastian.

"He's not there, Sebastian. He's gone."

"What?" Sebastian said, crossly. "Stupid fool has gone on his own. He knows where the girls are, and we are being too slow for him."

"Can we track him?"

"It should be easy enough in the snow," Sebastian said, making his way up to the lookout. Another slurry of snow was in the air, and the clear tracks were already being smudged away by the freshly fallen snow.

"Damn the boy," Sebastian said under his breath. He would have known what Alonso would have done, but Diego…? Who knows how that boy thought? He didn't know how Alejandro had missed the clues, and the evidence pointing to his own son being Zorro, but it was clear to him that was the case.

Zorro could have managed the mission well enough, but Diego with his motives so skewed was strange and unpredictable. He wanted to prove himself as Diego, but what would that really entail? Sebastian didn't know him well enough, and it was obvious Alejandro would be the same.


	32. Chapter 32

Alejandro joined Sebastian with their horses as quickly as they could.

"What did you mean, those things you said about Diego?" Alejandro asked.

"Never mind," Sebastian said, turning his horse roughly.

Alejandro grabbed his brother's arm. "Tell me. You know something about my son."

"I only just arrived, how would I know anything about Diego?"

"You are an observant man, a trained agent of the crown. Have I missed something?"

"You need to talk to your son," Sebastian said.

"You need to talk to me," Alejandro said.

"You have believed what you wanted to believe, seen what you wanted to see. I suppose it is a father's weakness."

"About Diego?"

"He plays ignorant, you assume he is ignorant. You think he is unskilled at swordplay, because he never carries a sword. You think he is at home all day reading or studying, but you are not there with him. You have no idea what he does."

"What are you saying?"

"Think about how you would have been in the same circumstances and at the same age. If our father had been threatened, arrested and punished, would you have been openly fighting against his oppressor?"

"Oppressor? The alcalde?"

"You called him from Spain, to help?"

"I never asked him to abandon his studies. I wouldn't have wanted that. The alcalde was unjust, but we were handling it." 

"Handling it so well that you were arrested on Diego's first day back. Did you even ask him about his studies before you were arrested? Any action he took after that arrest was probably secretive. Even from you. He was trying to protect you. Your interests."

"He's Zorro, isn't he?"

"Finally…" Sebastian sighed. "I think he is Zorro. I think he is the best candidate."

"Surely he would have told me?"

"Maybe it isn't easy to admit to something hidden for so long. He was trying to protect you, that could have included from yourself."

"I said so many things that must have stung," Alejandro said softly.

"That stupid fool passing himself off as my son, is Diego," Sebastian added. "He could be up against an enemy which surpassing his skills. He could be outnumbered."

"Zorro can fight off ten men," Alejandro said.

"Ten incompetent soldiers who fear him by his reputation," Sebastian retorted. "It makes a difference."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Alejandro said, urging on Dulcinea.

They scanned the landscape for a lone man, on a horse or on foot. No one stood out in the snow, whether on the road or off the road.

"If he is Zorro, he knows the art of stalking his man, Sebastian," Alejandro said thoughtfully. "He is keeping to cover, and going slowly. Do we know the approximate direction?"

"Alonso said it was to the north, and mid way up the mountain. I hope the children are still alive, or this will be a sad adventure."

Alejandro studied the landscape again, his sharp eyes still clear enough to pick out the man on the side of the mountain. He pointed out his son to his brother. He had never been so proud, or so worried at the same time. That wasn't the safest route up to the cave, but it was the fastest, and as such required a great deal of athleticism and gymnastic skills.

"Damn fool," Sebastian murmured, impressed despite himself. Diego was good, he'd give him that. Maybe he was as good as everyone seemed to think. He would wait for a final judgement on that when the day finished well.

Zzz

Diego climbed the rocks on the side of the mountain slowly, and carefully. He realised the bandits were slightly to the side, and if he showed himself the alarm would be raised. Shots would be fired, and his climb could be suicidal. If they had seen him he would have occasionally made a good target, but only occasionally. The speed of the climb and the cover available was worth the occasional risk.

The wind was picking up strength, and he felt the sting and the chill. He thought of the children shivering in the cold, terrified and colder than he was. It gave him energy for the last couple of footholds and handholds and the lift up to where the cave would be.

The last effort hoisted him up in front of the cave, and he rested a moment to catch his breath. He approached the cave carefully, drawing Alonso's sword in case he had badly miscalculated and the cave contained bloodthirsty criminals.

He could hear sniffles and sobs in the darkness, and quickly knew he had found the children.

"Don't be frightened, I'm here to take care of you," he said gently.

"It's so dark," came a plaintive reply. "I'm afraid."

"Lizzie, it's alright. This nice man is here to help us." A younger voice spoke up. A child crept up to him, and grasped his hand. "I know you are a good man."

"Maggie, you are blind. How can you know these things?"

"It's dark for me all the time, Lizzie. I'm afraid all the time. This man is nice. I can tell."

"Maybe we can set up a fire?" Diego said, allowing himself to be led to where the other girl was sitting.

"I don't know how. Uncle William made it last time, and we kept it going for a long time. It went out when we feel asleep." 

Diego's eyes adjusted to the gloom, grateful that the campfire area was organised. There was a flint and striker discarded to the side, and a tiny amount of tinder and fuel was available. It would do in a pinch, for a short time.

Diego struck a spark and fed it carefully so it became a small campfire. Now he could see the cave a little better, he became aware of the nest where a man lay. The man was very still, and the girls seemed to avoid looking towards the area. Lizzie put an arm around Maggie as they shivered near the fire, and Diego crept towards the man.

He sat by his side and checked for signs of life. He was alive, for now. For how long, Diego couldn't guess, but probably not very long. He was very warm, and drenched through. Feverish, and had been for a while.

"I know he is dead. It is my fault," Lizzie said weakly. "I didn't know how to help him."

"No, Lizzie. I can see the problem. He is badly wounded," Diego said gently. "A doctor would be at a loss at this late stage."

"He never told us he was wounded. Maybe we could have helped him better," Lizzie said. "Are you a doctor?"

"My name is Diego de la Vega, I have been looking for you."

"De la Vega? Like Aunty Margaret's husband?"

"Yes, Alonso de la Vega is my cousin."

"I am Elizabeth, and this is Margaret. We are pleased to meet you."

"Let's get you warm and fed," Diego said, removing a bag over his head. It had laid across his body in the climb. It held oranges, sandwiches and a flagon of water.

The girls took the sandwiches delicately, using well trained manners that seemed to make the environment feel off centre. Unreal almost. They were hungry but resisted the urge to eat hurriedly.

"Was this your lunch?" Maggie asked, suddenly.

Diego shook his head. "No, this was packed for you. I have had my lunch."

Diego busied himself with peeling the precious oranges, a delicacy in Los Angeles at the best of times, and now, almost a godsend. Their sweetness would cheer the girls, and give them a lift for the hours ahead of them.

"There are bandits somewhere out there, Uncle William said not to go outside. It is too dangerous."

"Your uncle was wise. The bandits may be a problem. I can deal with that as well," Diego said with confidence.

"But how? You are only one man, sir. Surely they outnumber you?" Lizzie said, whispering in an attempt to save her sister from being frightened again.

"All I need to do is plan around the numbers. Maybe you can tell me how many there are?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You need to finish your sandwich. We have oranges to eat as well."

"Oranges?" The girls echoed him in wonder. "How wonderful."

"In California, anything is possible," Diego said with a smile.

"Oh, maybe we will be alright after all," Lizzie said with a sigh.


	33. Chapter 33

James Colt travelled to Los Angeles on his fine arabian mare. He was frowning to himself, thinking hard. He had been thwarted at every turn. First it had been Matthew and Elizabeth's stubborn refusal to give back the designs for the weapon, and then it was the missing children who might know something and might even be witnesses. The weather had gotten worse, making the journey south almost impossible.

It was safe to say he was frustrated, and his normal mean streak was scheming how to get revenge as fast as possible. It was not directed to anyone specific, but he would think of someone. Probably the de la Vega family, who seemed to have been entrusted with the designs.

It was ahead of its time, and a wonder of modern science. He couldn't believe how it had been smuggled out of the American territories, but he had been tasked to fetch it back. The only copy in existence... Not even patented yet, and they had a miraculous weapon much more capable than anyone else's. Guaranteed victory was promised with that gun. No doubt about it.

If it fell into the hands of the enemy, Britain, or even Spain, it might spell disaster in the simmering conflicts that threatened the American territories. It couldn't happen, and the de la Vegas would have to die, whether or not they had seen that correspondence. It wasn't worth having witnesses.

He thought about his work with the Americans. As a double agent, he had been part of the Spanish spy agency, as well as the American. Being born in America made it more understandable that he could betray his Spanish comrades. His mother had been Spanish, and he had inherited her dark complexion and her skill with languages.

The inventor of the weapon had died in a freak accident a week before James had hunted down the design. No one could replicate the design, as he had worked with only one assistant and in secret. The Americans had insisted on it. James had personally killed the assistant who had stolen the design, once the assistant had confessed to where he had sent it.

It had been a shame to kill his old team mates, but it had been necessary. He knew he could never get Elizabeth to talk, and she hadn't shared the information with her husband, hoping to leave Matthew out of it. The only remedy was that she was killed, and it had only taken one shot. She defended Matthew as he knew she would, and it made it very economical. It was just a pity he had knocked Marguerite to the side to get past her, and she had hit her head hard on the marble hearth of the fireplace. He was almost certain he had killed her, but he hadn't wanted her dead. She wasn't meant to have been there.

He shrugged. Lots of people died in conflicts. She was an innocent bystander, perhaps, perhaps not. You never knew who was a spy these days, he told himself. She could have been part of the team, retired or not.

James reined in his arabian as it reared. A fox had wandered onto the road, and had startled the mare. She was skittish at the best of times, and he swore at the fox, wishing he had a gun in his hands to shoot the pest. It would have startled the mare a little more, and besides it was just a fox. Why waste ammunition on the creature?

The fox turned golden eyes towards him and stopped for a while. He shivered, feeling as if the fox was reading his mind, judging and condemning him for all his crimes. Then it turned and ran into the scrubland.

He shivered again, and then gathered himself together. There was nothing in it. A fox was a fox. A dumb animal, and a nuisance. It couldn't read his mind, and animals didn't judge people.

The town wasn't far away, if he hurried he could make it to the local tavern for a warm meal and some shelter from the elements.

zzz

James Colt saw to the stabling of his mare, and when he was satisfied that her care was to his standards, he walked over to the tavern, drawing his coat against the force of the wind. He pushed the doors open, and strolled inside, his eyes automatically scanning for known threats, possible threats and potential enemies. Seeing nothing of note, he sat down at a table close to the kitchen, his back to the wall to give him eyes on the arriving patrons.

He ordered albondiga soup, and it was soon served with a chunk of warm freshly baked bread. A bottle of red wine sat at his elbow, and he poured a cupful. He raised it first to his nose, and sniffed it appreciatively before sipping it.

"How is everything, Senor?" The tavern keeper, Victoria Escalante, asked as she waltzed around a table to serve someone else.

"Very nice," he murmured, as his eyes scanned her from the top of her head to her feet. Nice looking girl, he noticed. Curves in all the right places, and she could cook. He had always preferred Spanish women over English beauties. Maybe it was something about his mother. He dismissed the tavern keeper quickly from his mind, as he needed to keep his senses alert.

"Don Diego," Victoria said, greeting a tall, dark featured young man. "I'm surprised to see you out so late."

"I find with my father away it is a bit lonely at the hacienda," the man said. He was dressed well, and walked confidently. A gentleman, a cabellero. He sat down at a table near James Colt and ordered an albondiga soup, and some red wine.

"I thought you prefer lemonade?" Victoria asked.

"Well, I thought I'd have a change tonight."

"Mmm," she said, raising an eyebrow.

James Colt smiled slightly. Those two were friends - no doubt about it.

"I never thought Diego de la Vega would move from lemonade to red wine so easily," Victoria said, shaking her head. "I'm keeping my eye on you, senor."

"A change is as good as a holiday," Diego said.

He was a de la Vega? That was interesting, and something to follow up on. Colt watched him carefully, memorising his features and considering what to do with his discovery. He couldn't act immediately, having to reconnect with his paid mercenaries. De la Vega could wait a few days.

zzz

Alonso knew he had slipped up a little. How was he to know that Diego avoided wine? It was a strange habit for a young caballero. His cousin had a few strange ways, he had noticed. He had ridden Esperanza into the pueblo, and she was a fine horse, a little more spirited than he had thought Diego would have preferred. For all appearances the mare was docile and slow, but with an unfamiliar rider she was skittish and restless. He was an excellent horseman and had her controlled in moments. He had thought that Diego's nature was too docile to have such a spirited steed. He had been wrong.

Alonso was becoming more curious about his cousin, determined to explore who Diego was. Why would he pretend to be less skilled than he was? There must be a good reason.


	34. Chapter 34

Sebastian and Alejandro decided where the cave would be and made camp. Making an immediate attempt to scale the mountain would draw interest from the bandits in the other cave. One man doing it as Diego had was risky enough, two men older and slower than him would easily be seen.

Two men camping near the road would be unusual but not dramatically out of place. People travelled the roads, even in the snow, but not many. They would be an object of curiosity, but not seen as an immediate threat. Their grey hair was another plus on their side, as younger men tended to doubt the skill and capability of their elders.

It was getting dark quickly, and they made a camp fire while they could still see. Its warmth and light gave them a little boost, and the rest they were forced to take was needed.

"I hope your son stays well hidden," Sebastian said softly. He was half believing the stories he had heard were true, but not quite.

"If he is Zorro, he will," Alejandro assured him. "You could be wrong about your deductions. In some ways he presents as very much the opposite."

"Mmm," Sebastian said, staring into the fire. He was confident in his assessment for now, but arguing with his elder brother never ended well.

"You have been wrong about things before," Alejandro said softly.

"About what exactly?" Sebastian's voice was calm but there was an edge to it that was cold.

"I was thinking…." Alejandro began. He sighed, shaking his head. "It was so long ago, we should forget those days."

"No, go on. I'd love to hear what you were going to say," Sebastian said.

"It would be unwise to bring it back up after all this time."

"You mean, I thought Elena loved me. She didn't, she loved you. As if you were any good for her… Your quick temper probably squashed her spirit. There is a reason why your son is afraid of you."

"I loved my wife, I treated her like a queen. Whatever she needed, I provided. Whatever she wanted, I gave her. I still love Elena," Alejandro said, trying to keep his anger within its bounds. It was the past afterall, it had no bearing on the present. "Mercedes got the worst deal."

There, it was said. The thoughts had been pushed down for so many years. The old jealousies were almost as sharply painful as they had been in the past.

"What did you say?" Sebastian said, slowly. "What do you mean by that?"

"Mercedes. She thought you loved her. How did her life turn out?"

Sebastian's fist whacked his brother backwards, and Alejandro tasted blood. He lightly touched his lip, and his fingers came away bloody.

"Mother isn't here now, Sebastian. If you want a fight, you have it."

Sebastian let himself sink onto a nearby rock, nursing his hand for a moment. The mission was most important. Where had this argument started? He probably was at fault, but as usual with his brother, Alejandro could cut with his words just as well as he could with a blade. Their mother could have stopped them from spilling blood, and at times she was the only reason they didn't. She was long gone, but Sebastian knew he was more mature than to murder his brother.

"No fight. For the sake of the children, Alejandro."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. It is like the years never happened."

"I did think I loved Elena. I was heartbroken when she chose you over me. Mercedes was there in our circle, a pale version of her twin, and I shouldn't have led her to fall in love with me."

"You compromised her, forced her into marriage or risk a scandal."

"It was her. I am not shifting blame, but I treated her as a sister. She was the one who kissed me. I should have read the situation better, but I was only 19. We did the right thing. That double marriage was a shambles," Sebastian said softly. "I was still mooning over Elena, and Mercedes could tell. There was never a more heartbroken couple on their wedding day."

"Elena shouldn't have had to share her special day with anyone," Alejandro said.

"They were sisters and the second marriage was a surprise for everyone concerned. I suppose they were just economising in the circumstances. Marriage is always an expensive business for everyone concerned."

"I suppose so," Alejandro said, at least trying to understand the reasoning.

"Mercedes had a clearer picture of our relationship at the wedding," Sebastian said sadly. "She refused to be my true wife for some time. I thought perhaps she would get the marriage annulled."

"The scandal would have been incredible."

"I wooed her as I should have before marriage, and eventually she forgave me. She was in love with me the whole time, but she had been hurt. So you are right, in some aspects…"

"I'm sorry. We should have left the past alone. There is only anger and sorrow there, anyway. Our wives are dead now, afterall."

"Yes, they are."

A silence came over them, broken only by the occasional crackle of sticks in the campfire snapping in the heat.

"Could we chance working against the bandits in the dark?" Alejandro said softly.

"The dangers of slipping and falling from the mountain may be too high. Diego is probably where we should be. It would have a better vantage point."

"If he was Zorro, we would just need to wait for morning for results," Alejandro said. "You don't seem to think Zorro is much good?"

"He is a showman, an actor. I haven't seen him fight, and if he is fighting the same soldiers day after day, I am sure some of the stories are exaggerated."

"Zorro is a very skilled swordsman."

"Seeing is believing as they say, Alejandro."

Alejandro merely smiled, and pondered the possibility of Diego being so skilled. He had accepted the idea a few hours ago, but now reality had set in he wasn't so sure. Sebastian had no idea what Zorro was capable of, and appearances were often misleading.

Zzzz

Diego had settled the girls into their own nest-like beds near the fire, but not so close that they were in danger of being set alight.

A soft glow outside marked the other cave, the light not covering much ground, but enough to notice. The girls had drifted into a deep sleep, leaving Diego free to think and listen.

Were these bandits well disciplined or loosely controlled? There was no raucous laughter or loud voices. Some bandits were well disciplined enough to avoid heavy drinking. That would suggest a well organised watch, and well trained men.

Hopefully they had not seen him as he had climbed the side of the mountain. If they had they had made no sign of that. If they had, a surprise attack would be a waste of time. Diego regretted the lack of a certain black suit and familiar sword and steed.

The black suit would give him an advantage in the dark especially, and generally speaking a masked man would alarm adversaries enough to give him an edge. He could disarm a bandit easily enough to gain a weapon, but the sword felt solid and real in his hand. Toronado was an asset he couldn't do without at times, but things were as they were.

He had wanted this, he told himself. He had wanted to do this without the mask, although he had reached for the 'mask' of Alonso's identity. Sebastian had probably told his father the truth, that he was Zorro. That would be something to deal with later. Diego wondered if he could convince his father that he wasn't Zorro. Most probably not, but his father was a lot easier to fool than he would have thought.

He could hear voices if he listened hard enough. Most bandits didn't talk to themselves, Diego thought, making himself smile slightly. Conversation meant at least two, and at least one more keeping watch at some sort of lookout. Three men wouldn't make much of a gang of bandits, so he could factor in double that number and still be on the small side.

Six to twelve bandits in the gang? A somewhat large proposition, but he was Zorro, wasn't he? He'd faced twice that amount of lancers before, not an everyday occurrence, but he had at times faced that many. With a mask, and with his reputation behind him.

He shook his head to dispill the unfamiliar sense of doubt. It was dark, he had the element of surprise. He could make it seem like there were many men with him. It was easy enough.

William would have weapons, he realised, glancing back to where the man slept.

He crept over to the injured man, noting his now laboured breathing. The fever was building up again, and realistically he would be dead before morning, but Diego felt guilty for not tending to the man.

"Who...who are you?" William asked, awake and lucid for the time being. Diego grabbed his hand reassuringly.

"I'm a friend. A de la Vega. My name is Diego."

William's mouth moved but only a whisper escaped him. "Diego?"

"Alonso's cousin. I'm in need of a sword and pistol. Can I borrow yours?"

William took another laboured breath, regarding Diego thoughtfully. "You'll be keeping them, I fear. I'm done for."

"Nonsense," Diego said, automatically. He reached for the weapons, weighing the sword in his hand and nodding.

"You'll need the sheath, and the gun belt. You're welcome to it. The children…?"

"All safe," Diego said, lying a little. He had no real idea where Charles might be, but he was probably hiding somewhere safe. "You did well, William."

William's eyes lost their focus for a moment, and then refocused slowly. "I did my duty."

"Of course," Diego murmured. "Very well done."

William's eyes closed, and Diego knew he was asleep. He was a stubborn man, Diego could tell, because a lesser man wouldn't have lasted as long.

Diego nodded to himself, as he strapped the belt to his waist. The sword was well made, the gun had ample ammunition - more than enough for the work at hand. The bandits were sitting ducks.


	35. Chapter 35

Diego grabbed a spare navy blue blanket, and swung it around his shoulders. A smile came to his face, as he considered the possibilities of such a prop. He could rig up a rough poncho and masked bandana easily enough, and he would feel more himself. Trying to put Zorro behind him would not work, he had to use his talents and recognise them for the advantage they were.

It didn't take long to do, and he was glad of the warmth and the weight. Snow had melted on the mountainside, leaving dark patches of rock and shrubs that he could blend into. The poncho hung slightly over his shoulders, a little more than the shoulder edge of the cape, but it still gave him enough range of movement to bring the fight to the bandits.

Now, where was the lookout? There was always a bandit on watch, they normally took turns to keep watch at all times. They normally didn't doze off, as most bandit leaders would shoot anyone that stupid. Diego knew the terrain, even if half was still shrouded in white. The bandits most likely did not know about the narrow crevices and hidey holes that he had discovered in boyish exploration. He could still squeeze into some of them, and there was plenty of cover with no moon.

The lookout would be on higher ground than the cave. He skirted the cave itself, picking his way carefully in the dark, by feel rather than sight, the darkness making the job all the harder. It was an ally but also a hindrance, as most allies tended to be in the end. Diego was wearing Alonso's clothes, practical, warm and sturdy, designed more for action than Diego's normal attire.

Loose gravel on top of the rise was almost his downfall, as his boot caused some to skitter down the way Diego had edged himself up. He held his breath, and crouched low to the ground, trusting that the dark could hide him.

"Who goes there?!"

There was a pause and a hush, and a lamp moved to illuminate the surroundings. It skimmed Diego's shoulders, and passed him by. A little fox scampered into the light, blinked a few times in the sudden artificial daylight, and darted away.

"What was it Joe?"

"Just a pesky fox, just vermin," Joe answered.

"Stop shouting without a reason, Joe," the voice said crossly. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

"You think you can do better, you get up here," Joe retorted.

Diego smiled a little. The men were restless, and irritable already. It wouldn't take long to deal with them.

"Cut it out, Max," a stern voice intervened. "Everyone shut up."

There was another silence, and the light went to the other side of where the lookout was sitting. Diego could see him now, backlit in the dark. Easy prey, he decided. He hoped his little fox friend had the same sort of luck. The snow made hunting difficult for the predators in the mountains.

Diego snuck up behind the man, silently, aware of any obstacle under his feet this time. He pinched a nerve in Joe's shoulder, and the man collapsed into unconsciousness. Diego quickly used Joe's bandana to tie his hands together, and made sure his knots were good and tight.

One down and several to go.

zzzz

Alonso rose from the table at the tavern, a little too warm from wine, but still sober enough to think rationally.

"I'll get some coffee," Victoria said, as she swung by with empty plates and tumblers. "Sit back down senor."

"I am fine, senorita," Alonso said, but sunk back down obediently. Something told him it would be unwise to argue with the lady. "Really."

"You drank half a flagon of wine."

"An exaggeration," Alonso said.

She shook her head at him sternly. Her patrons were slowly emptying from her tavern, heading to homes far and near. Alonso was one of the last ones left.

When the last of the other patrons left, Victoria bolted the front door and turned to Alonso.

He raised an eyebrow with curiosity. It felt like a tiger had confronted him and was wondering what to do with him.

"Where is Diego? What have you done with him?" She said, moving her hands to her hips. "I know you aren't my friend."

"I am Alonso," he admitted.

"I am not an idiot. I could see that."

"Where is Diego?"

"He tricked me into swapping places with him. He took my place with Alejandro and my father. To find and rescue the children."

"Is he completely mad?"

"I don't know," Alonso said.

"Why didn't you go after them? You could have rectified the situation by now," Victoria said crossly. "Diego isn't trained for such an adventure. He could fall to his death just trying to climb in the mountains. He could wander off and get lost."

"Sounds like he is soft headed, or a child, senorita. I don't know how likely any man who has lived in this part of California all his life could doom himself so easily."

"You don't know Diego, I do. Come with me," Victoria said, leading the man through to her kitchen. On the table were two cloaks, and a bag of supplies. "We are going after them. We have to tell Alejandro that Diego is pretending to be you. With any luck Diego hasn't tried anything that will get himself hurt."

Alonso wondered if his cousin had pretended well enough to be taken for him or not. His father was an experienced agent and was famous for his observational skills. He wondered why Victoria felt so protective of a grown man, and if Diego had let her think things that were not true. And just why had he decided to follow the older men into action under the guise of his cousin at all?

Couldn't he have just gone as himself? Alonso winced a little. He had not been invited to join them, had not been expected to join them. His father had thought him capable of managing the farm in his absence, but not in confronting bandits and dangers unknown. Looking after the ranch was important and took a lot more skill than confronting bandits, so what was the problem? Was Diego a coward? If so he had picked the wrong man to mess with, Alonso thought with a scowl. Diego would soon be walking into a clenched fist, if he had anything to do with it.


	36. Chapter 36

Alonso rode Esperanza next to Victoria's cart, considering the strange circumstances he found himself in. Her concern for his cousin was touching but a little exaggerated for just a friend. She reminded him of his wife.

Victoria was doing her best to ignore the man who looked so strikingly like her friend. She had been confused since he had turned up earlier that day. He looked so much like Diego, but something was definitely wrong. His personality wasn't as calming, wasn't as generous, wasn't as warm. Alonso was just another man, although he looked like Diego. She frowned, and flicked the reins a little, making the old mare snort her disapproval.

What was so special about Diego? She had other friends that were men in her life, and her brothers weren't too considerate - but surely all brothers were like that. She had been courted, clumsily by several unsuitable men, and some very sweet men. Diego hadn't asked her, she remembered, but had she wanted him to? Would it have changed her life in any way?

She loved Zorro, and although waiting was hard, so was thinking of marrying another man, even such a friend as Diego. How could it be that someone who looked so much like her friend couldn't fool her? Did she have feelings for Diego that had grown into something more than friendship? But why would that happen while Zorro was alive and close?

Diego had seen her through many challenges, and had been at her side through good times and bad. If he ever spoke up, it was to protect her and what she stood for. What did that mean? He had been a figure in her life that she couldn't imagine surviving without. Imagining the time when he must marry, filled her with the rare emotion of despair and jealousy.

What had she said to Zorro? That she loved the man behind the mask, no matter who he was. He was so worried that she would hate the true man and prefer the legend over the man. Why? Did the man present as someone so much different to her hero in black? What had Diego said when the new Alcalde had arrived? What if Zorro was someone ordinary like himself?

She pulled in the mare automatically. "No, it can't be," she murmured. Could Diego possibly be Zorro? She had thought so only days before, was confident enough to ask him. His immediate action after that had been so foolhardy that she had dismissed it out of hand, but wouldn't Zorro have reacted like that? Thoughtlessly turning to action in preparation for unknown threats?

Diego wasn't trying to be like Zorro, she realised. He was trying to act as himself, and failing. A drop in confidence fuelled by other people's lack of expectations. His injuries had kept him from riding out in costume for months, and whatever training he did would have been restricted. His failures must be so galling if she was right.

"Victoria, are you alright? Would you like me to drive the cart for a while?" Alonso said softly, aware of the mare's confusion. Victoria's face had gone so pale for a moment, and she looked frozen.

"Do you think Diego could be Zorro?" She asked him, ignoring his concern.

"Diego? Zorro?" Alonso said. "I hardly know either of them. I wouldn't be the best judge on that. How long have you known them?"

She considered the idea. "I have known Diego most of my life, maybe all of my life. I have known Zorro for over five years."

"Do you think it's possible?" Alonso said. "Or likely?" He pondered the idea. Diego had been confident that no harm would come to himself swapping with Alonso, and facing unknown dangers. He wasn't content to join the other men as himself. If he was Zorro, why hadn't he just gone in the mask?

"Diego had a brother, a twin, stolen from the family. Risendo was a high ranking government official, and a very experienced swordsman. Maybe Diego felt intimidated and thought he owed his father a son like that? I don't know," Victoria sighed. She shrugged. Men were confusing at the best of times, add tragedy and loss, and they were doubly so.

"Feel free to take the reins, poor Jara is sick of me tonight," Victoria said softly. She shifted across, making sure to keep her distance from the handsome man.

"Jara?"

"It means 'mother'. Diego helped me watch over her when she was foaled. He said she had the makings of a fine stud mare. I laughed at the time, and offered to sell her to him. The name was part of our little joke. It is an Indian word, as well. Diego told me that. He has always been interested in other countries."

"Diego is undoubtedly intelligent," Alonso said with a nod. Jara responded better to his handling than to Victoria's uncharacteristic uncertainties and strangeness. Alonso wondered if being intelligent had anything to do with being smart. In Diego's case it was debatable.

"Victoria, it might be wiser to turn back. If the weather worsens, Jara will freeze and so will we."

"We will rest in a cave and make a fire, of course."

Of course. One track mind, much like his wife. He wondered if appearances had deceived him. The last time he had seen his beloved head strong wife she had been lying in a pool of her own blood, and he had left her in the care of the servants at his brother in law's house. He had assumed she was dead, and maybe she was.

"Aren't you concerned about your reputation?"

"Diego is very much like a brother figure to me, and no one would care."

"I wouldn't be sure of that. Women have a habit of gossip and tale-telling especially in regards to their betters."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, on Diego's return he might feel honour bound to marry you to save you from the harpies."

"Oh…" She was biting her lip, Alonso noticed. His wife had that habit after being told to consider another angle. It meant she was considering what he had said, and working out whether she agreed or not with him.

"It's not as if they will be gossiping about me, but Diego wouldn't deserve it."

Alonso focused on the road ahead and tried not to shake his head. She had a better heart than most of the wealthiest women he had met, and Diego very much deserved whatever came his way. Especially if he had misled the woman for his own purposes.

She was a beautiful woman, even in her practical clothes. In finer clothes and better settings she would be a famed beauty, like a jewel cut from the rough natural state and polished and set into gold. Other women had noticed, even in the time he had been in the pueblo, he had seen the side glances and whispered comments, based on nothing he could see. With something to spark gossip it would like sharks attracted by blood in the water to a shipwreck victim, clinging to a raft. She was too innocent, even for her practicality.

"Well," she said after a few moments. "We must find Diego quickly and rescue him from whatever trouble he has gotten himself into."

"What if he is Zorro? He wouldn't need rescuing," Alonso said.

"The last couple of months he has been making very bad choices. He's only just gotten over the concussion that Charles gave him. If he has gotten over it. He is trying to prove himself, like a fool. I want to make sure he doesn't need help before I go back home."

"Concussions take more than a few days to heal, Victoria," Alonso said thoughtfully. Maybe he had misjudged his cousin. If he was unwell, he might be in trouble. He scanned the mountain side with interest, but in the darkness of a moonless night, it was a hard task.

He had memorised the position of the caves, and the landscape was becoming more familiar. They were close. A light from a campfire attracted his attention, and he turned the cart towards it. Other people meant that reputations were safer. With any luck it would be Diego, and Victoria would convince him to return home to the tavern with her, and sleep off the bravado.

"Diego?" A voice called as figures slowly came into view.

"No, I've had enough of subterfuge, Father. It's me, Alonso. I have Victoria with me. She's worried about Diego, and refuses to return home without him."

Victoria jumped off the cart as it came to a stop. "Do you know where Diego is? Is he with you? He told you he was Alonso but he isn't. This is Alonso."

Alejandro shook his head. Sebastian glanced over his son with amusement.

"The tight caballero pants look very stylish," he commented, making Alonso glance down at Diego's borrowed clothes with dislike. They had restricted his movement all day, and he missed his normal clothes.

"Not now, Father. Where is Diego?"

"He is with the children, as far as we know. At dawn we will deal with the bandits, but it is quite dangerous to venture up there at the moment. One slip in the climb could be fatal."

"We can't just sit around waiting for daylight," Victoria said crossly. "He could be facing the bandits alone, he could be hurt. We can't wait and do nothing."

"We will wait, and you are remaining in camp. Out of harm's way," Sebastian said firmly.

Victoria folded her arms, and glared at him. Sebastian had the face and attitude of a commander used to being obeyed. She knew what to do with men like that. Whatever she wanted, and make sure she wasn't caught.

Alejandro frowned at her, as she relaxed her arms, and nodded meekly. Meekness was not one of Victoria's main qualities, and obedience to firm orders was unlikely. He would be watching her closely.


	37. Chapter 37

Victoria startled awake. The slight noise which had disturbed her was curious, enough to entice her out of her cocoon of warmth provided by the fire and the thick blankets the men had shared with her. She wondered how they had slept in the tent, and hoped they hadn't been cold.

Diego stood in the cave entrance, holding a young girl and leading another. He looked dirty and tired, and distracted.

"I need to leave these with you," Diego said in a whisper. "Don't worry about the bandits. I have dealt with most of them, and I'm going after the ring leaders."

"Diego," she began. The girls stumbled towards her and her soft heart melted easily. She embraced each of them and kissed their heads gently.

"I can't stop, Victoria. Don't stop me."

"Your father...What do I tell him?"

"He can wait. This can't."

"Diego, please…"

"I love you, Victoria. When I get back we need to talk. I have been keeping something from you for too long."

"Zorro…?"

He turned his head as if she had shouted it, instead of whispering it. He left without another word, long legs striding, as if trying not to run but to get away as quickly as possible.

Victoria sighed. She had wanted to say so many things, to reprimand him, to warn him. If he was Zorro, it was all unnecessary. But neither Zorro nor Diego had been so curt with her before, almost sharp with her. It was almost as if he was a totally different person. Someone she didn't know.

She gathered the shivering children to her, and settled them near the fire, wrapping them both up in a thick blanket, while she wrapped herself in the other. No doubt the girls were hungry and thirsty and in need of a bath and a bed. What trials had they gone through? What terrors?

Their eyes were wide and they were very pale.

"My name is Victoria. I'll look after you for the time being. Then we can find your parents."

"My mother is dead," the eldest sniffed. "My name is Elizabeth, or Lizzy."

"How do you know?"

"I saw her. All the blood. I don't know if my father is alright or not. This is Maggie. She can't see. She needs help, not me."

Victoria paled, and nodded. Lizzy was determined and trying so hard to be strong. She reminded her of her younger self. It was her turn to be the protector, just as Alejandro and Diego had stood by her when she had been orphaned.

Victoria put her arms around the teenage girl, and held her. "Then we will both help Maggie."

Zzzz

Alejandro rose at dawn with Sebastian. He wandered into the cave and raised his eyebrows at the two sleeping girls near the fire.

"What's this?"

"Diego brought them in, but didn't stay."

"What the devil is he doing? Zorro or not, the boy is hardly able to take on these sort of people. These are international agents."

"What, Sebastian?"

"The group had found a plan for a new weapon, one that would revolutionise the industry. In the hands of the Americans or the British, it would disadvantage the Spanish control of the colonies. Imagine what would happen if the French got a hold of the blueprints. Reproduced in the thousands, it would cause a bloodbath on the battlefield."

"What happened, why are the children wandering about in the wilderness, without an adult?"

"I believe that their espionage was uncovered. The Americans invented the gun, and would have certainly retaliated. They mustn't have the blueprints or the children would be safe. Maybe the children have the blueprints."

"Maybe the children could identify the murderers of their parents," Alonso added, entering the cave. "They might still be able to be charged with murder. Who knows what the justice system is like here at the moment? Too many national interests too close together."

"Sounds a little like a withdrawal opinion, Alonso," Sebastian said sternly. "Hardly patriotic."

"The Americans are not going to jeopardise their interests by allowing spies to be charged with murder, it's hardly reasonable," Alejandro added. "Nice idea though."

"These children will be hungry when they wake again," Victoria said, crossing her arms against her chest. "What are we going to feed them?"

"I'll fry some eggs," Alonso said, leaving the cave.

"We will need to see what the bandits are doing," Sebastian said, thoughtfully.

"Diego said he 'dealt with them', whatever that means," Victoria said. "I don't know what came over him."

"That could mean several things."

"Mostly that they are no longer a concern," Alejandro said. "I am taking Victoria and the children back to the hacienda where it is warm and safe. You and Alonso can do what you need to, but you are always welcome at my home, Sebastian."

"As you are at mine, Alejandro. It has been too long."

Victoria sighed, and set about making some black strong coffee, to fend off the cold and bolster everyone's spirits. The older men seemed disappointed in the lack of violence, but Victoria was missing her tavern. She could settle the children easily in the back rooms, and care for them as long as needed.

The girls were roused when the eggs were ready, and ate them hungrily. Victoria wondered how long it had been since they'd had anything substantial to eat. Sebastian and Alejandro were silent while Alonso explained to the children that he was their uncle, married to their aunt. The girls accepted it without comment.

"Clara and Charles are back at the hacienda. You will soon be together again," Alonso said. The girls brightened at that. Lizzy managed a half smile, and a nod. A tear ran down Maggie's pale cheek, obviously the relief was overwhelming.


	38. Chapter 38

Samuel Colt allowed the eldery man ahead of him into the coach. The man seemed doddery and a little senile, with a grey beard and a hunched posture.

"Thank you young man. It is rare to see such kindness," the man said in his shaky voice. English with just the hint of an accent.

He didn't know why the elderly man had attracted his attention. Maybe his clothes. Obviously a gentleman of some wealth by the looks of the clothes. Coach travel was hard going and anyone with any money preferred a more private journey. Especially the older generation.

"Where are you travelling to, sir?" Colt asked when the coach jolted into motion.

"San Francisco," came the answer. "My nephew is on the verge of an unfortunate entanglement, and needs a guiding hand."

San Francisco, Colt mused. That was his destination also. A tremor went through him, before he shook himself. What did he have to fear from a feeble old man? He had uttered no threat, no insult, nothing. He was jumping at shadows, on edge, and he was vaguely disturbed.

He had ventured out to meet his confederate, the bandit leader, an hour before the coach arrived. The man wasn't at the meeting place. No word, no message and no man. Not even a lackey giving an excuse. Something had happened. Just what he couldn't say, couldn't even guess. He would have to return as planned and think on it on the journey. Perhaps there was an enemy working against him?

He shifted in his seat, frowned and tried to consider his travelling companion. A conversation would be a good way to put his racing thoughts in their place.

"Where does your nephew live? I am heading to San Francisco myself. I may know him or of him," Colt said, thinking of finding some common ground. "What's his name?"

"Drake. Paul Drake. My late sister's boy."

He had heard of Drake. A prominent businessman's youngest son, Paul Drake was a strapping young 25 year old with a gentleman's skills in boxing and fencing. His horses were of the best stock and he was already building his own fortune. A very eligible bachelor indeed.

"Paul is very successful and at an age where his heart is easily turned. I hope I am in time to steer him right."

Colt thought a man of 25 ought to do whatever he pleased. He wasn't close with Drake, and knew him only by reputation, but he felt a twinge of pity.

"We haven't really been introduced. My name is Montgolfier, Juan Montgolfier. Or John if you'd rather."

The name sat strangely in Colt's mind before he dismissed it with a shake of his head. He must have heard it talked about in town. It still increased the sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

"No. Juan is just fine sir," Colt said. "My name is Colt, Samuel Colt. Pleased to have made your acquaintance, Montgolfier."

"And I your's sir. These journeys weary me so, I am afraid. I will surely sleep most of the day." He yawned. "I will apologize ahead of time to save embarrassment."

"Apologies are quite unnecessary sir. I understand completely." Colt knew his elderly relatives had similar issues. He just hoped the old man didn't snore too loudly.

Zzz

Diego had woken easily an hour before dawn, and had applied the false beard, several other theatrical embellishments and had unfolded a folded cane. It was more a prop than a sturdy support but would do for show.

He sent Toronado back to his stable with a note in his bridle. He had to at least let Felipe know his immediate plans. The rest would play out as necessary. He had factored in the probable city that was Colt's destination. Diego had several friends in San Francisco that would assist him if approached.

He hadn't taken the role of elderly man since university but he felt confident that the pretense would be easily convincing. Colt might think highly of himself but he hadn't encountered Zorro before.

Zzz

Victoria rested in the nursery near the children, tossing and turning. Sleep was fleeting and she gave up on trying to sleep early. Pacing the floor was useless but it was calming to be actually moving.

One of the girls let out a shrill scream, making Victoria run to her bedside. She was still asleep, having a nightmare.

"Lizzie, you're only dreaming sweetheart. It's alright. I'm here." Victoria smoothed the girl's straw blonde hair out of her face.

Alonso and Sebastian appeared in the doorway of the room, guns at the ready. They startled Victoria.

"We thought there may have been an intruder," Alonso explained as he concealed his weapon.

"What's going on?" Charles said, sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, lad. You've got a lot of rest to catch up on," Sebastian said gently. He met Victoria's eyes and nodded. Then the men disappeared heading back to their own rooms.

Lizzie whimpered in her sleep. Victoria stroked her hair and murmured soothing words.

"Mama," Lizzie murmured. "Oh, Mama."

"It's alright. Everything will be alright." Victoria hoped it would be alright. There were so many things still unsure. Where was Diego? Was he alright?


	39. Chapter 39

Samuel Colt allowed the eldery man ahead of him into the coach. The man seemed doddery and a little senile, with a grey beard and a hunched posture.

"Thank you young man. It is rare to see such kindness," the man said in his shaky voice. English with just the hint of an accent.

He didn't know why the elderly man had attracted his attention. Maybe his clothes. Obviously a gentleman of some wealth by the looks of the clothes. Coach travel was hard going and anyone with any money preferred a more private journey. Especially the older generation.

"Where are you travelling to, sir?" Colt asked when the coach jolted into motion.

"San Francisco," came the answer. "My nephew is on the verge of an unfortunate entanglement, and needs a guiding hand."

San Francisco, Colt mused. That was his destination also. A tremor went through him, before he shook himself. What did he have to fear from a feeble old man? He had uttered no threat, no insult, nothing. He was jumping at shadows, on edge, and he was vaguely disturbed.

He had ventured out to meet his confederate, the bandit leader, an hour before the coach arrived. The man wasn't at the meeting place. No word, no message and no man. Not even a lackey giving an excuse. Something had happened. Just what he couldn't say, couldn't even guess. He would have to return as planned and think on it on the journey. Perhaps there was an enemy working against him?

He shifted in his seat, frowned and tried to consider his travelling companion. A conversation would be a good way to put his racing thoughts in their place.

"Where does your nephew live? I am heading to San Francisco myself. I may know him or of him," Colt said, thinking of finding some common ground. "What's his name?"

"Drake. Paul Drake. My late sister's boy."

He had heard of Drake. A prominent businessman's youngest son, Paul Drake was a strapping young 25 year old with a gentleman's skills in boxing and fencing. His horses were of the best stock and he was already building his own fortune. A very eligible bachelor indeed.

"Paul is very successful and at an age where his heart is easily turned. I hope I am in time to steer him right."

Colt thought a man of 25 ought to do whatever he pleased. He wasn't close with Drake, and knew him only by reputation, but he felt a twinge of pity.

"We haven't really been introduced. My name is Montgolfier, Juan Montgolfier. Or John if you'd rather."

The name sat strangely in Colt's mind before he dismissed it with a shake of his head. He must have heard it talked about in town. It still increased the sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

"No. Juan is just fine sir," Colt said. "My name is Colt, Samuel Colt. Pleased to have made your acquaintance, Montgolfier."

"And I your's sir. These journeys weary me so, I am afraid. I will surely sleep most of the day." He yawned. "I will apologize ahead of time to save embarrassment."

"Apologies are quite unnecessary sir. I understand completely." Colt knew his elderly relatives had similar issues. He just hoped the old man didn't snore too loudly.

Zzz

Diego had woken easily an hour before dawn, and had applied the false beard, several other theatrical embellishments and had unfolded a folded cane. It was more a prop than a sturdy support but would do for show.

He sent Toronado back to his stable with a note in his bridle. He had to at least let Felipe know his immediate plans. The rest would play out as necessary. He had factored in the probable city that was Colt's destination. Diego had several friends in San Francisco that would assist him if approached.

He hadn't taken the role of elderly man since university but he felt confident that the pretense would be easily convincing. Colt might think highly of himself but he hadn't encountered Zorro before.

Zzz

Victoria rested in the nursery near the children, tossing and turning. Sleep was fleeting and she gave up on trying to sleep early. Pacing the floor was useless but it was calming to be actually moving.

One of the girls let out a shrill scream, making Victoria run to her bedside. She was still asleep, having a nightmare.

"Lizzie, you're only dreaming sweetheart. It's alright. I'm here." Victoria smoothed the girl's straw blonde hair out of her face.

Alonso and Sebastian appeared in the doorway of the room, guns at the ready. They startled Victoria.

"We thought there may have been an intruder," Alonso explained as he concealed his weapon.

"What's going on?" Charles said, sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, lad. You've got a lot of rest to catch up on," Sebastian said gently. He met Victoria's eyes and nodded. Then the men disappeared heading back to their own rooms.

Lizzie whimpered in her sleep. Victoria stroked her hair and murmured soothing words.

"Mama," Lizzie murmured. "Oh, Mama."

"It's alright. Everything will be alright." Victoria hoped it would be alright. There were so many things still unsure. Where was Diego? Was he alright?


	40. Chapter 40

**I am aware of discrepancies in the story line but with my track record of unfinished work I will finish and edit. Sorry for the problems.**

Samuel Colt insisted in escorting the old man to his nephew's house, Diego had frozen momentarily. He hadn't forewarned his friend, and the whole act might be in jeopardy.

He covered it with effusive manners and a weak refusal of assistance. He knew that the other man would not let him off that easily, and while they were changing horses at a coach house, he quickly scrawled a note and offered a dusty little boy a coin for delivering it as quickly as he could run, and another coin when he did deliver it. The child was about to shake his head, but Diego handed him the silver peso. Eyebrows went up and the child was another creature altogether. He had never seen anything move so fast.

"Do you need a little more rest?" Colt said with concern. "Sit back down near the fire. You look cold."

Diego couldn't work out if Colt had seen anything that had destroyed his cover, or if he was just a man who saw looking after the elderly as a personal duty. Either way he had to keep his wits about him if he was to survive the next few days. His shoulder was aching, and the need for rest tugged at his mind.

"Thank you young sir," Diego managed to murmur in an elderly a voice as he could muster, moving awkwardly to one of the large armchairs by the fire. "Your assistance is very welcome, but most assuredly unnecessary. My nephew will come for me at the next stop."

"I will not leave you unattended if he doesn't." Diego tried not to frown too much at that. Did young people interfere this much normally in the affairs of their elders? He'd have to remember not to be so solicitous in the future when he dealt with the elderly.

"Very well," Diego said, with resignation. "Will you ask the attendant to provide me with a mug of coffee, Mr Colt?"

He sat and stared at the red, orange and yellow flames for a few moments as he waited for the drink.

He woke from a light doze when Colt rested a hand on his shoulder, placing the coffee on the side table.

"Are you sure you are well, Mr Montgolfier?"

"Just the infirmities of age, young man." Diego took a sip of the strong coffee, and hoped he would stay awake long enough to reach his 'nephew's' home and relative safety.

They were about to board the coach for the last leg of the journey, when Paul Drake arrived in his own coach. Colt recognised him and waved him over.

"Your uncle looks a little drained with the journey, sir."

"Uncle! We were worried about you. Looked everywhere for you," Paul said as he assisted Diego out the door and into his own carriage.

"Thank you, sir for caring for him." Paul shut the door and turned to Colt, giving him his full attention. "My uncle has been feeling particularly infirm these last couple of weeks. Pray tell me, what did he introduce himself as? Whose name did he use?"

"Montgolfier?"

Paul smiled. "Yes, I thought as much. My uncle was once a brilliant scholar, and still shows glimpses of what he was before age took hold of him. His wits are almost completely gone, but he did have a great interest in that family. They were balloon enthusiasts, several brothers, and one has recently passed away. Someone must have talked about them in my uncle's hearing, and he used it in his latest confusion. He is my uncle on my mother's side, but we are the only family he has left. I feel very responsible for him in his last days."

Colt looked startled and then smiled as well. "I thought I recognised the name, but I couldn't place it. Italian family?"

"French I believe."

Colt farewelled the young man, and Paul Drake entered his carriage.

"I heard all that," Diego said.

"It was a better scenario than you had started with," Paul said. "He would have realised where the name came from eventually. Now he will further underestimate you if he meets you in future, in this form."

"I suppose you are wondering what is going on," Diego said.

"Anything is better than planning a dinner party with my sisters," Paul said, interest growing in his eyes. "Tell me everything, friend. How about you start with shedding some of the disguise, so I can finally see you? After corresponding for so long, you forget we have never set eyes on each other."

Diego pulled the false beard from his chin, wincing a little at the brief pain left from the adhesive. He rubbed some of the stage makeup away and sat up a lot straighter. The old man vanished as he flicked his fingers through his hair, turning grey back to shiny dark in moments. He stretched his aching shoulders, and back, looking and feeling more like himself.

"Impressive," Paul murmured.

Diego did a slight seated bow. "Best in my class for theatre...as well as other subjects," he said with a shrug. He suppressed a groan, as his hand went to his injured left shoulder.

Paul's eyebrows went up but he didn't comment on Diego's obvious discomfort.

"It's about an hour til we arrive, get some sleep, Diego. You look like you probably need it."

zzz

When they arrived at Paul's San Francisco's townhouse, he helped Diego disembark, and handed him over to the butler.

"I want him lying down in a warm bed, Whitmore. Don't listen to his fussing. Get someone to send for the doctor," Paul said, swinging into action in the foyer.

"It is a scratch, this is an overreaction, Paul. I need to keep watching Colt."

"Blood was seeping through the bandage," Paul said, shaking his head. "Not a scratch. Whitmore, get him upstairs. I have to let my mother know I am home." Paul opened and closed the door to the drawing room, leaving Diego with the serious looking butler.

"Come along, sir. You know it is sensible," Whitmore said sternly, reminding Diego of his old tutor. As a young teenager he had gotten into minor accidents that his father had long forgotten, or was never aware of. His tutor had stepped in, fetched the doctor when appropriate, and governed him until he learned enough skills to control his de la Vega impulses.

Diego sighed with resignation, and obeyed.

"Yes, I know it is sensible, Whitmore," Diego said, fighting his exhaustion. He had kept changing the bandages, continuing with basic wound care, but he was tired. Rest would do him a world of good, but he did need to find out more about what was going on. Colt had the answers or the means to get them.


End file.
